‘The arms,’ she said. ‘He always wore them sleeveless shirts. Liked to show off his muscles, I think.’
‘He was in good shape for his age, wasn’t he?’
‘Oh, yeah. Rode that bike every day.’
‘He have a lot of girlfriends?’
‘I never saw one over there. He was always alone.’
‘Anything else?’
‘Um … his feet. He always wore flip-flops or sandals but he never took care of his toenails so his feet were always ugly like that – long toenails with dirt underneath. Yes, now that I get a good look I’m sure this is the old guy from next door.’
One of the children she had left at the table in the back began to cry and Sofia said, ‘Ma, the Talibans are biting one of the twins.’
‘Well, make them stop,’ Martina said. But to Sarah, she said, ‘I better fix lunch before they eat each other.’
‘Yes. Thank you for taking the time to talk to us.’ They gave her their cards.
Jason pointed at his card as he gave it her, and said, ‘You call this number, any time, if you feel you need some help. Anything bothers you, you call, OK?’
Looking alarmed, Martina said, ‘You think we’re going to have more trouble around here?’
‘Oh, no, I didn’t mean anything like that.’ He leaned toward her and put his hand out as if to touch her but then didn’t quite. His fingertips hovered there, two inches from her shoulder as he said, ‘I just want to tell you, don’t worry. If you need help we’re here to help you.’
‘Well.’ Martina blinked, tucked the cards carefully in the pocket of her jeans and gave him a small, quick smile. ‘Thanks. That’s … good to know.’
‘All right!’ Sarah said, hearty as a camp counselor. Seized by an anxious desire to be gone from this room, where emotions seemed to turn on a dime, she said, ‘Bye, Sofia. Thanks for your help too!’ She waved, reached for the door and opened it just as another blazing streak of lightning split the sky. To hell with the umbrella, she decided; she grabbed it up still folded and jumped off the step into a front yard so flooded it didn’t matter whether you stayed on the walkway or not. They splashed like heedless children to her car, wrenched open a door apiece and then, groaning against the power of the wind, heaved them shut.
Panting and soaking her car seat, Sarah got the motor started and the wipers on. They thumped aggressively but made scant difference otherwise; the deluge all around the car reduced visibility to near zero. She enlisted Jason to squint through the storm; told him to call out if he saw she was about to hit something. They backed slowly along the curb till Jason told her she was even with the front walk on the crime scene.
Not even hurrying much anymore since all her clothing was already ruined, she jumped out and followed Jason along the twig-and-trash-strewn walk and through the front door that Delaney was holding open for them.
Another terrifying bolt of lightning blazed as she stepped inside. She didn’t even flinch, just pushed the door shut and leaned against it, dripping. Peering through the wet hair hanging in front her eyes, she asked Delaney, ‘Whose stupid idea was it to go out in this typhoon?’
‘Yeah, boss, after Sarah begged you not to make us go.’ Jason cracked up over his own wit. Sarah began to chuckle too and soon they were leaning on each other, soaked and helpless with laughter as the storm shook the house.
But before long Sarah realized that Delaney, not amused, was watching them impatiently, trying to say something. Sarah stopped laughing and said, ‘What?’
‘I looked around some more after you left. Found a couple of things.’ He showed them a shoe box on the kitchen counter. Holding up one end of the lid, he said, ‘Look but don’t touch, huh? Almost all jewelry. Two gold rings, look like matched wedding rings. Some jade earrings and one woman’s ring that might be pretty valuable, that pear-shaped diamond. Heavy silver ring with a jade stone – that’s the only thing for a man.’
‘And the paper?’
‘A bike license and the deed to this house.’
‘Funny. Where’d you find it?’
‘Behind the one cupboard door that wouldn’t open, by the stove there. I couldn’t see any reason why it would be stuck so I turned my flashlight on it and found this one thin screw in the bottom corner.’
‘Oh, cool,’ Jason said softly.
‘Yeah. But still no social security or Medicare card, so remember you’re still looking for those. They must be here somewhere.’
‘We’re probably going to find another hidey-hole,’ Jason said. ‘People who like to hide things usually have several.’
‘Yes. And we might get prints or DNA off these.’
‘Yeah,’ Sarah said, ‘the guy can’t have worn gloves every waking hour, can he? Nice find, boss.’
‘Yeah, well, the other thing is even better.’ He unzipped one of the many pockets in his jacket, pulled out a paper evidence bag and shook the contents into his gloved hand. Even in the near-dark, the brass had a glamorous glint.
Sarah leaned over it, wishing she could pick it up. Jason, behind her, said, ‘Whatcha got?’
‘A casing.’
‘Where’d you find it?’
‘Right here in the cupboard.’ He showed them the little paint scrape on the shelf in the open dish cupboard between the front door and the window. ‘Damnedest thing. I’m sure the scene techs worked all around it. But it had wedged in tight behind this stack of plates and they never saw it.’
Sarah squinted. ‘It’s a .22, isn’t it?’
Delaney nodded. ‘Yup.’
‘And Long Rifle. Probably out of this revolver we found here, right? Although why would he take a casing out of his own gun and then wedge it in behind his plates? But … so, maybe – what do you think?’
‘It’s not out of the Masterpiece,’ Delaney said. ‘It’s rim-fire, all right, but a different firing pin mark, and besides, this casing has an extractor mark. You can’t see it here in this light but I turned my flashlight on it when I found it and it’s there. This ammo wasn’t fired by a revolver.’
‘So maybe our attacker had a pistol?’
‘And the bullet’s still in the victim – that’s what I’m thinking.’
‘I’m trying to get my head around this. The ME complains there’s not enough blood for the beating he took but now it turns out there’s a bullet in him too?’
‘You’ll find out tomorrow. Cameron phoned while you were over there. He’s got first dibs on an autopsy room in the morning.’
Sarah’s cell phone rang as she was zipping her day-pack, getting ready to leave the crime scene. ‘I hope I’m in time to head you off,’ her mother said. ‘This storm wrecked Howard’s plans for fireworks so we’re leaving the ranch now. Got lots of picnic leftovers – can you come home pretty soon?’
‘I’m just heading back,’ Sarah said. ‘Be careful on the road; I think you’ll see a lot of downed trees.’
She called Will to tell him not to cook anything. ‘Mom says the neighbors didn’t come to the picnic because they saw the storm coming, so she’s got more food in the car than she started out with.’
‘That I have to see,’ he said. ‘She looked like she was mounting a relief expedition when she left.’
Sarah had to detour around a couple of collisions and a downed power line on the way but she still beat Aggie home. Will was enjoying a major league baseball game on TV, having been chased off his back-door repair job by the storm.
‘Go back and watch your game – don’t touch me,’ she said. ‘I have to shower off a murder scene.’
When she came out of their room in seersucker cutoffs and sandals his game had gone into extra innings and he didn’t even hear her walk past. She went into their small kitchen and began stacking things in the refrigerator to make space. Aggie came in the house a few minutes later, exclaiming about all the trash in the yard.
‘I’m glad you’re home safe,’ Sarah said, helping her unload an armload of plastic containers. ‘Look, I cleared out a
whole shelf.’
‘Wonderful. It won’t hold it all but we’ll prioritize. I’m not that crazy about sweet pickles, are you? And the bread and cake can stay out, of course, and – what have you got there, Denny?’
‘Deviled eggs and potato salad. Don’t throw any of these away, will you, Grandma? I can eat them all myself if necessary.’
‘I know you could but then you’d be sick. I believe we can all help you eat the eggs, Denny. Just bring in one more load of food and then you’re free to go in your room and play that awful game I wouldn’t let you turn on at the ranch.’ Denny had blown some of her allowance to put a game called Cookie Clicker on her phone. She had only had it two days and already Aggie had threatened to destroy her phone if she played it in the kitchen.
Denny giggled and told Sarah, ‘Turns out Grandma can’t stand freaky noises.’
‘It’s not just the noises it makes,’ Aggie said. ‘It’s the idiotic behavior you indulge in while you play it.’
‘I can’t help myself, it’s so exciting. Anyway, it’s better than hearing what the Evil Trolls say about their stupid Barbie dolls, isn’t it?’ Denny’s relationship with her cousins had never recovered from the times when she’d been stranded at the ranch by her runaway mother. Howard’s daughters had made no secret about not wanting her there.
‘It’s a hard pick,’ Aggie said, ‘but I believe I hate Cookie Clicker even more than those obscene dolls. I love all my granddaughters,’ she told Sarah, ‘but their toys may yet drive me to distraction.’
‘You hated the Hula Hoop too, Ma,’ Sarah said, ‘and think how fast we grew out of that. I’ll come help you with the rest of the food,’ she told Denny. In the yard she plucked a blowing trash sack out of a cactus and began stuffing it full of the trash that was still flying across lots. ‘Too bad about the fireworks.’
‘Uncle Howard says he’ll shoot them off later. Whee, isn’t this wild?’ Denny grabbed wet newsprint out of a palo verde. ‘You went to a crime scene but you’re home early? How come?’
‘The storm obligingly blew a transmitter so we had to quit.’
‘Fantastic. You want to play a game of Cookie Clicker with me?’
Surprised, Sarah laughed out loud. After the crazy stress of the crime scene and the storm, it felt good to her cheeks. ‘Sure,’ she said, ‘let’s get all this food put away and go play.’
Will’s ball game ended in a noisy pile-up of bodies just as they went through the living room. When he turned off the sound, she asked him, ‘You want to come along and play Denny’s new game with us?’
He grinned and said, ‘Why not? Can’t be much rowdier than what I just watched.’
‘You want to bet? Aggie really hates this game so it must be pretty loud.’
‘I’ll play the first game and show you how,’ Denny said. ‘Let’s each play for two minutes, OK? Highest score wins all the cookies.’ She held the phone in front of her with her left hand and twitched her right middle finger up and down rapidly, clicking the cookie hundreds of times in two minutes. It did make a very annoying sound, but the striking factor of the game was Denny’s posture while she played – she became rigid with concentration, only her right hand moving as the device clicked madly on. Was she having an epileptic seizure? But she stopped abruptly, noted down her impressive score and handed the phone to Sarah, saying, ‘Now you try.’
Sarah expected to tolerate one whole game if she could, but soon found herself yelling like a banshee as her agreed-upon two minutes sped by before her score was even close to Denny’s. When she relinquished the phone, she said, ‘Well, there must be a steep learning curve,’ and handed it to Will.
To her annoyance Will’s score soon dwarfed her own, but she felt better when she saw it still came nowhere near Denny’s.
After two games, Will said, ‘I think I have to stop – my heart won’t take any more.’
‘Don’t you just love it?’ Denny said.
‘Yes. But I need to calm down a little before supper.’ Aggie tapped on the door then and when they opened it, said, ‘Please tell me the two of you have not become addicted to this horrible game too.’
‘No,’ Sarah said, ‘but we’d better stop right now or I may never stop.’
In the kitchen, pulling picnic food back out of the refrigerator, Sarah said, ‘So what will you do with all those cookies you just won, Denny? Are there prizes?’
‘Just games.’
‘What?’
‘The more cookies you win the more games you can play. I figure I’ve got enough in the bank right now to last me till I’m about thirty.’
‘You see what I mean? It’s a game for idiots. I’m afraid it’s going to rot her brain.’
‘We’ll watch her closely but I’m sure it won’t. That was fun, Will. We should play games more often, not be always so busy.’
Will said, ‘Well, you know there’s something I’ve wanted to do with the two of you and we never seem to have time. After we finish this picnic could we try it for a few minutes?’
‘Great. Better than fireworks,’ Sarah said.
Cleanup was easy because they’d brought along the paper plates. When the food was put away again, Sarah said, ‘What’s your game?’
‘Remember when we moved into this house you gave Denny that smart phone?’
‘You’re not going to take it back, are you?’ Denny turned her patented pleading look on him. ‘I love my phone.’
‘The phone’s yours; we need you to have it. I’m just saying your aunt was very proud of herself when she installed that tracker app on all our phones so we could always find each other. But I don’t think we’ve ever used it, have we?’
‘I tried it out when I first installed it,’ Sarah said, ‘because that was right after Denny was … you know, lost that time.’ They never talked about the terrible day when her sister Denice left the motor running while she went after beer and cigarettes and the car got stolen with Denny in it. ‘But she’s never been lost again, I’m happy to say.’ She reached across her chairback and touched her niece on the arm. Denny patted her hand. ‘I always know where she is and I just forgot about the app.’
‘Fine. But right now we’ve got an evening with nothing to do so why don’t we try working the thing? Because I can’t remember how.’
Ten minutes later they were sitting knee-to-knee, all talking at once and pointing at the phones they were holding.
‘I wish it wasn’t so wild out on the street,’ Denny said, ‘so I could see this thing actually working.’
‘Oh, well,’ Will said, ‘it isn’t that bad, is it?’ He got up and peered out the window. ‘Nah. There’s a lot of trash around but the wind’s gone down. I’ll go out and drive a mile or so and come back. You two get a fix on me and make notes, so when I come back you can tell me where I’ve been.’
Will turned his lights on, braved the windy sprinkles left from the storm and came back all excited again – a big acacia tree had fallen on a house near the end of his mile-long drive.
‘So that’s why you took that big detour,’ Denny said. ‘We’ve been wondering what you saw.’ She crowed happily as she identified the locations he’d been to and heard his praise.
Sarah did a run in her car so Will could see the tracker at work. When she came back, she said, ‘Well, this was kind of fun. Any more games we could play before bedtime?’
‘Well, if you mean that,’ Will said, ‘I’d like to add one more thing.’
‘Will, now,’ Sarah said. ‘You’re not going to start teaching her the old ten-code, are you?’
‘No. When would she ever use it?’ Will said. ‘But I think it might be fun to pick one or two numbers for our own family code.’
Denny lit up. ‘Hey, I’d love that. Like, I could send you a number that means “Come at once, I’m being strangled by aliens?”’
‘Or eaten by alligators? Probably better to keep it kind of general. What do we call now for help?’
‘Nine-one-one.’
&nb
sp; ‘Right. But among ourselves we don’t need three numbers, do we? Why not pick one number that means, “Help”?’
‘Oh, I see.’ She thought with her mouth puckered. ‘I don’t know why but three seems about right.’
‘Maybe because I just said it, but fine, let’s make it three.’ They all did fist bumps to endorse number three.
‘So let’s review,’ Will said, striking a professorial pose, index finger in the air. ‘My phone chirps, I say, “Great Scott! Someone has sent me a text message!”’ Really into it now, he morphed into a faux Dick Tracy, staring at the phone in his hand.
Sarah giggled and said, ‘Where’s your yellow fedora?’
‘Must have mislaid it. I see the message is from Denny. All it says is, “Three.” But that’s all it needs to say, isn’t it? Because the next thing I’m going to do is—’
‘Switch to your locator app and find me,’ Denny crowed. ‘Ho ho! Will Dietz has got you, you rotten bandido!’
She considered for a few seconds with her head on one side. ‘Does anybody ever use happy codes?’
‘For what?’
‘Like right now I could send one that says “Come at once, the devil’s food cake isn’t getting any younger”?’
‘Oh, damn,’ Sarah said, belting on a plastic lab coat on the morning of the fifth, ‘I had some phone calls I had to take so I couldn’t come sooner. And now you’re already half done, aren’t you?’
‘We’ve got three more autopsies scheduled in here today,’ Cameron said. ‘I couldn’t wait.’
‘Sure. Push comes to shove all the time down here, doesn’t it?’ Illegal immigration had slowed a little from last year but now that medicinal marijuana was eroding some revenue streams, new drug wars kept popping up – dealers fighting to grab a slot as the heroin or meth dealer of choice – so the Pima County morgue was still a lively place. At nine o’clock in the morning all its exam rooms were in use.
‘Well, the only surprise so far,’ Cameron said, ‘is that this old bird looks even better on the inside than he did on the surface.’ The big V-cut had been made and the corpse opened, all the organs in dishes alongside. ‘See here? Lungs, heart, kidneys, liver – the average man twenty years younger would be glad to have any of these.’
Denny's Law Page 4
