Chapter 54
Arlette Cruz-Ramos lived in Evergreen. Jess knew this from the woman’s biography found on the internet—artists of the twenty-first century. Diana and Rogart had been headed for Evergreen. Their paths may have split according to the strange little man at the taxidermy shop. But then again, they may not have.
Jess drove out of sight of Gorman’s, parked and then called Tamara who informed her that she still had not heard from her boss. Next Jess consulted her GPS for directions to the address listed for Arlette.
Some ominous dark gray clouds were descending on her from the western mountains. Jess recalled that the morning weather report had predicted snow in the high country that might spill over onto the front range. Might now appeared more of a certainty. Her Camaro would be next to useless in a snow storm. As bad as, if not worse than, Diana’s BMW. So why would she drive it into a burgeoning storm? Maybe she didn’t. Maybe Diana was headed back to Denver. Why doesn’t she call?
Another thought: just because Jess had reception didn’t mean that Diana did. Maybe Diana didn’t have that Can-you-hear-me-now company.
As she pulled up to the iron gates that marked the entrance to the Cruz-Ramos estate, Jess’s cell vibed. “Diana,” she answered without looking at the caller number.
“No,” said Tamara. “It’s me.”
Jess’s whole being wilted. “Oh,” she said.
“Dr. Bell called, looking for Diana.”
It still amused Jess that Tamara held Winston, with his juris doctorate, in such high esteem that she always referred to him as “Dr. Bell.” She should see him in his boxer shorts at six a.m.
“I told him where you’d gone. He wants you to know he’s taking Mr. Flannigan in to surrender to the authorities. He’s pretty sure they’re going to charge him. Dr. Bell’s going on record as his attorney.”
“And Winston’s not calling me directly because…?”
“He did. He said he got a message that your number was not available.”
“I must’ve lost reception somewhere. Damn!”
“He gave me the information he wanted you to have,” continued Tamara. “He has to enter his appearance with federal court, get to Estes Park to pick up Mr. Flannigan, then accompany him to the Denver FBI office. He thought…he hoped you might have found Diana. You haven’t, have you?”
“Not yet. I’ll keep in touch.”
Snow flakes were falling at a good clip as Jess rolled down her car window so she could reach the key pad on Arlette’s gate. One button read Main House. She pushed it. Nothing. She pushed again, waited. Still nothing. Finally Jess held the button down for a full sixty seconds. When she let up, a falsetto voice that Jess could not positively identify as male or female was in mid-sentence. Chewing her out royally.
“I’m sorry,” said Jess without an ounce of sincerity. “I’m here to see Mrs. Ramos.”
“Mrs. Cruz-Ramos?” asked the voice.
Whatever. “Are you she?” ventured Jess.
Flustered garbles at the other end. Then, “Oh, dear no. I’m Roy…uh…the houseman.”
“Is Mrs. Cruz-Ramos available?”
“Do you have an appointment?”
Jess took a deep breath. The cold seared her lungs. She wore only an unlined leather jacket over a medium-weight blue turtleneck and jeans. “No, I don’t have an appointment.” Her teeth began to chatter.
“I’ll check with Mrs. Cruz-Ramos. She doesn’t usually see people without an appointment. Did you know she doesn’t receive unscheduled callers?”
Would I be sitting out here in a blizzard if I knew that, asshole? Then she had a constructive thought. “I’m a friend of Darren Rogart. He’s meeting me here.”
“Just a moment, please.” Then…nothing. For more than a moment.
Shivering, Jess rolled up her car window, leaving only an inch or so at the top. Then she heard the sound of the gates grinding open. She quickly zipped the Camaro through the opening, skidding on the icy pavement as she did so. She hoped the guy wouldn’t change his mind and close the gates, making sandwich filling of her beloved red Camaro.
Inside the gates, Jess looked around the courtyard of a Mediterranean-style villa. Dry fountains adorned with…Is that what I think it is? A marble cherub on one held his small penis forth to descending snowflakes. Cold enough to shrink even a stone pecker.
Roy met her at the door. She knew him by his voice. “Walk this way, please.”
At least he’s not limping.
The man with the high voice stood perhaps six feet tall, but bent at the shoulders. And thin to the point of emaciation. He reminded Jess of a carving of Don Quixote.
Jess followed Roy across a vast foyer, past a winding staircase, into what appeared to be a library from the ceiling-high rows of books that filled one wall. Another wall was devoted entirely to wildlife art. Jess recognized some of the artists from work in Diana’s collection.
“Ms. Edwards?” a woman’s voice inquired.
The lighting in the room was dimmed by the thickening storm outside. Jess had to look twice to see where the voice came from. The woman came toward her in an electric wheelchair, its motor barely audible. She had apparently been watching Jess through an oval window that faced the front gate. A small pair of binoculars lay on an antique table by the window.
“I didn’t tell your…houseman my name,” began Jess. Fingers of discomfort constricted her throat. She had the sudden, inexplicable feeling of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The dark red plush carpet and the walls, papered in a black-and-white scroll pattern, seemed like relics from a different era.
“You’re Darren’s friend. You’re black. You’re…beautiful. You must be Jess Edwards.”
The woman smiled, revealing perfect white teeth against light olive skin. Although her sentences were clipped, she had no accent, Texas or otherwise.
As Arlette drew closer, Jess could see the fine lines in her taut skin. The woman’s chiseled jaw line was either the legacy of excellent genes, or the work of a skilled plastic surgeon. While her onyx-black hair color surely came from a bottle, the brightness of her gray eyes gave her a youthful appearance. Nonetheless, Jess guessed her age at about sixty.
“So, Darren has mentioned me?” Jess began. This was so totally surprising that it knocked whatever planned spiel she had right out of her head.
In answer, Arlette threw back her head and laughed, a throaty sound, which in younger days Jess surmised would have been quite alluring. She could well imagine the woman’s husband wanting to preserve many of his wife’s qualities. There was nothing out on the net about her being terminal, but…the chair? She obviously wasn’t in the best of health.
“I have M.S.,” said Arlette, her expression sobering. “I can see that Darren hasn’t told you. From the way you’re staring.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was.” Jess felt an unfamiliar bewilderment.
“I was in remission for a number of years. So Anthony and I put it off.”
It? Jess watched Arlette cock her head, looking as if she expected a comment. Jess had none.
“I assure you, it’s not an uncomfortable subject for me. Nor should it be for you. Like you, I value the quality of my life.”
Like me? “You’re telling me this because…?”
“Because you’re one of us, of course.”
Chapter 55
“What do you mean, one of us?” asked Jess.
“You are kidding. Right?” Arlette’s brows arched, pulling at her thin skin.
“Is my friend, Diana one of us?”
A pouty expression claimed Arlette’s face. “I don’t know any Diana.” She cocked her head again and seemed to assess the situation. “I think Darren may be mistaken about you. I think you’re not who he thought.”
Jess’s curiosity took over, quelling her apprehension. “I’ll play your game. Tell me who he thought I was…and who you think I am.” Jess smiled sweetly. This old gal’s a certified nut case.
> “I think you mean harm to Darren. You’re probably wearing a wire.”
“A…wire?” Jess raised an eyebrow. “Why in hell would I, for Chrissake?”
“You don’t need to curse.” Arlette wheeled her chair around so that she was facing the window. “The procedure is virtually unknown, but not illegal. It basically died with Dr. Ara. In this country, at least.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. It’s pretty much alive on the net.”
“If one knows what to look for.” Arlette picked up a phone from the table that held the binoculars. She pushed in a number.
“But, to be eligible for the procedure, one has to be more or less…dead.” Jess backed rapidly toward the door.
“Darren? I think you’d better get over here,” said Arlette on the phone. “Oh, good,” she added.
Jess turned the door knob. It seemed stuck.
Arlette returned the phone to the table and wheeled around to face Jess. “He’s already here.”
“Listen, lady, I don’t give a fuck about your assisted suicide. So, I’m not wearing a fucking wire. Okay?”
Jess gave the door handle a mighty jerk and this time it gave. She stood looking at Darren Rogart. He had a smile on his face and a cell phone in his hand.
“Your timing couldn’t be better, Jess.” His smile widened. Then he winked.
Anger gripped Jess. She clamped a lid on it, then asked through clenched teeth, “Where’s Diana?”
“Let’s talk,” he said softly. He motioned with his head, “out here.”
Arlette wheeled across the room, an anxious look on her face. “Darren, where are you going?” she bleated.
He stepped into the room just long enough to give Arlette a reassuring pat on the arm. “Be right back. I just have some business with Jess.”
As he drew Jess down the hall after him, his tight grip on her right arm pinched and made her want to smack him. He’d never figured out that she was left-handed.
Before she did any smacking or even thought of using the Glock in her boot, there was something she needed from him.
“Where’s Diana?” Jess demanded when they were back in the foyer.
Letting go of her arm, he put a finger to his lips and steered her toward the front door. “Let’s just go out to my truck.”
“The fuck you say. I’m not going anywhere near your truck.” Jess backed way rubbing her arm and weighing a bunch of unattractive options.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed that Mrs. Cruz-Ramos isn’t all that stable.”
“She thinks you’re Doctor Death,” said Jess. “Are you?”
Rogart looked around before answering. She supposed it was to see if Roy was skulking in the shadows. “She’s delusional,” whispered Rogart, circling his index finger at the side of his head. “She has the idea I’m going to help her kill herself, then do her up like Eva Peron.”
“Darren…”
“Of course I wouldn’t do something like that. I wouldn’t even know how.” He laughed nervously.
Jess’s eyes narrowed. “Where would she even get the idea that you’d do it? And why would she think that I…” Jess felt an unfamiliar tremor in her voice.
He opened the front door. “Come outside a minute.”
Jess poked her head out. It actually looked like the snow was letting up.
“You don’t really think I’d do something like that, do you?” His eyes widened as his smile faded.
Jess shrugged. “Peron paid Dr. Ara a hundred thou for it back in the fifties,” she said. Rogart looked mildly surprised as Jess added, “But Eva was already dead.”
“Jess, come on!” He put a hand on her shoulder and looked her straight in the eyes as he continued, “Mrs. Cruz-Ramos…she wants me to call her Arlette…she’s a fine artist. But she’s going down hill fast. Why do you think Roy is here?”
“The houseman? They seem like a well-matched pair.”
“Roy’s not her houseman. He’s her nurse. She has dementia.”
Maybe, maybe not. “You’re evading my first question. Diana met you in Morrison. Where is she?”
He put on an Oh, that expression. “She’s at Joe’s cabin, trying to persuade Trisha to come back with us and raise her baby.”
Jess tried not to blink. “And what does Joe have to say about that?”
“Trisha says she hasn’t seen him since she got there.”
“How did Trisha get into the cabin?”
“What is this, the third degree?” he asked, the smile stealing back. “He keeps a key for her under a flower pot.”
How original. “How’d she get there?”
“I have no idea. I suppose she has friends, kids with wheels.”
As they rounded the side of the house, Jess saw the silver Dodge Ram. “I see you’ve got new wheels, Darren.”
“It’s Larry Strickland’s,” he said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Don’t you mean was?”
“Penny Strickland sold it to me cheap. That’s why I felt the obligation to help her find Trisha.”
They paused before the passenger side of the truck. “You never registered the truck?” Jess thought she saw just a flicker of something in his eyes.
“Penny didn’t want to report the sale on her taxes. She never actually signed it over to me.”
Jess backed out from under his hand on her shoulder. “Tell you what, I’ll follow you in my car.”
He laughed. “You’ll never make it in that little toy of yours.” He looked up at the roiling sky. “This storm isn’t over. It’s just getting started.”
Still she held back, knowing half of what he said was probably lies, but also knowing Diana might be counting on her.
“You want to see Diana, or what?”
Jess looked him up and down. They were about the same height. He was probably stronger, but she had the Glock and could probably get to it before he did her any damage. Probably.
He held the door open for her. Jess got in and slammed it after her, keeping her eyes on Rogart as he got in and started up the truck. The front gates swung open as they approached, then closed behind them. Rogart headed west into the mountains. As they left the populated area of Evergreen, he accelerated. The truck bumped roughly over ruts in the road, traveling farther into thickening forest coated with flimsy snow. Rogart’s quiet now unnerved Jess. They’d ridden in silence for several minutes when she pulled out her cell.
“Who’re you calling?” His tone was calm enough, but she caught something in it, a minute change in timbre.
“I thought I’d try Diana again.”
“Won’t do you any good. No reception at the cabin.”
She opened the phone anyway and pressed. At the same instant, Rogart accelerated around a wrenching curve, throwing her toward him. She bent away toward the passenger door, reaching down for her Glock. He braked suddenly, skidding to a stop. Over the screech of brakes, she heard a cell phone ring somewhere in the truck. As she glanced left, Jess saw his hand come out of his overcoat pocket. Hers was on the Glock when she felt something sharp pierce her neck.
Chapter 56
It took less than twenty minutes for Diana to get back to Evergreen. But it had seemed like an hour. She’d been so sure that Rogart would follow her. Was it possible that she’d nearly run down an innocent man? Crap. No way. She could imagine all the other things Jess would be saying about now.
She pulled into the parking lot of a bank and gathered her thoughts as she glanced at the car clock. Nearing 4:00 p.m. Did Evergreen have a police station? If it did, what would she tell them?
Rogart’s entire story to explain his relationship with Trisha Strickland didn’t track. Nevertheless, she’d bought it. At least, part of her had. But all the inconsistencies and things that seemed just a bit off paled by the sight of the silver Dodge Ram. That vehicle had been her nemesis since it had followed her from the gym in January. She’d assumed it had been Joe Flannigan driving. And she’d thought his motive was cle
ar. He was pissed at her for not taking his case and, in his eyes, causing him to lose his grandchildren.
But with Jess on Colfax, it had been a different Dodge Ram. Different license plate. Damn! As she’d sped by the truck that was now connected to Rogart, she hadn’t had the proper angle to read the license.
The only thing that made sense was a connection between Rogart and Cutler, the computer guy. But Cutler was the guy Jess said had raped Lori Rogart. Maybe Rogart didn’t know. She still couldn’t wrap her brain around the idea of a father teaming up with his daughter’s rapist. Maybe it was some kind of internet porno scheme after all. They must be using Trisha. But, jeez! Why the video in her own bathroom? Jess was right when she said that they’d be looking for young stuff. Not thirty-something-year-olds. This line of thinking was going nowhere. She had to find a phone.
Diana pulled across the street, entered a restaurant and looked for public phones and restrooms. She’d thought of using the phone first, but by the time she saw the Ladies sign, she realized that she was about to pee her pants.
When she did use the phone, her first call was to Jess. Voice mail again. She next entered her own office number and Tamara’s voice brought her back from the twilight zone.
“Diana, we’ve been so worried,” gasped Tamara. “Jess and Dr. Bell have both been looking for you. Where are you? Are you okay?”
“Now I am. I’m in a café in Evergreen, but I’ve got a bit of a problem. My cell phone’s missing, for starters.” She couldn’t believe how calm her own voice sounded in the relative safety of the restaurant, with phone contact to her world restored.
“That’s why they couldn’t get you,” replied Tamara. “There have been some developments in the Flannigan case. I know it’s not yours anymore, but you’ll be interested.”
“Go on.”
There was a brief pause at Tamara’s end before she asked, “Have you spoken to Jess yet?”
“No. I left her a message before my phone went missing. And I just left another. What’s this about Flannigan?”
“He’s being charged in the Larry Strickland murder and another one as well.”
The Trophy Hunter Page 22
