“I’ve been telling you that from the beginning. John wasn’t a murderer.”
“But two of the girls in that photo are dead,” Kali pointed out. “Maybe Crystal as well.”
“Are you saying you think John killed them?”
“We don’t know that he didn’t.”
“How can you think that?”
“Because it might be true, Sabrina. It’s looking like Olivia was the target and Sloane was the collateral victim.”
“So the girls got messed up in something. What’s that have to do with John?”
“Aside from the fact that there’s evidence against him?” Kali sighed. “John also spent a lot of hours in the last week surfing porn sites on the Web.”
“I don’t believe it.” Sabrina fluffed the pillow behind her and sat upright.
“Check the computer for yourself, then.” Kali shut her eyes, pressed the palms of her hands against them. “Maybe John didn’t kill anyone, but he sure as hell was up to his eyeballs in something.”
And Carmen Escobar, the Perez’s lawyer, would be thrilled to get wind of it.
Chapter 29
While Sabrina showered and dressed, Kali dumped the contents of her handbag onto the kitchen table and dug through the mess, looking for the number for Doug Simon, the private investigator John had hired. She found his card, called, and reached an answering machine. She started to leave a message but Simon picked up before she’d done much more than give her name.
“I haven’t forgotten the report,” he said. “I was just about to mail it out.”
“It’s done?”
“Pretty much. I’m sorry about the delay. There were a couple of crises with another investigation that got in the way.”
“Could I come pick it up instead?” Kali asked, aware of how eager she sounded. “I’m kind of in a hurry to read it.”
“Sure. Not a problem.”
“As I recall, you said Ray and Martha Adams had divorced years ago, and that Ray remarried and has a second family. Martha died two or three years ago. Am I remembering right?”
“In a nutshell, yeah.”
Kali took a breath. “You said there was a daughter, too. How old is she now?”
“She’d be about sixteen or seventeen. Lived with her mom until Martha’s death, then went to live with Ray and his new family.”
Roughly the same age as Crystal. Kali could feel her heart pounding as she asked, “Do you know the daughter’s name by any chance?”
There was the sound of papers being shuffled on Simon’s end. “Raelene,” he said after a moment.
Not Crystal. But then it was likely the girl wasn’t using her real name. “Named after her father?” Kali asked.
Simon chuckled. “Probably. I hadn’t thought about that angle.”
“What about Ray’s kids by his second wife?” Kali asked. “Anyone named Crystal?”
“Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“You asked earlier if we wanted you to pursue this matter further. I think we might.”
“I have time in the next couple of days, but if it will take longer, I’m afraid I won’t be able to get to it for a week or so. What kind of information are you looking for?”
“Mostly about the daughter,” Kali told him.
“Kids are tough. Not a lot of public information. I’d probably have to fly out to San Diego. That gets more expensive.”
“Let me look over the report first,” Kali told him. “I’ll be by to pick it up in about an hour. Does that work for you?”
“I’ll have it ready.”
“Thanks.” Kali hung up the phone and turned to Sabrina, who’d finished dressing and was filling the coffeemaker with water. “If I go pick up the report from that private investigator, can you stick around to handle the window guy?”
Sabrina nodded. “I was thinking,” she said as she measured coffee into the filter, “Olivia and Hayley were so different. I wonder how they knew one another.”
Kali remembered what Mrs. Perez had told her. A friend she met during the summer. During the summer when she’d quit a waitressing job for something better. Stripping?
“Maybe they weren’t as different as it appears,” Kali told her.
<><><>
Kali drove to Doug Simon’s office, which turned out to be an airy second-floor room furnished with a laminate desk, metal file cabinets, and two straight-back chairs for clients. A collection of desert wildflower photographs hung on the wall opposite Simon’s desk. The room was decidedly more functional than elegant, but, like the man himself, it radiated a down-to-earth quality that appealed to Kali.
Simon greeted her warmly, his large brown hand engulfing hers in a companionable handshake. “Sorry I was late with the report,” he told her. “It didn’t sound like you were in any hurry.”
“It’s okay. It’s just that a few questions have come up recently. Let me read this over, and then I’ll be in touch.”
She took the report on Ray and Martha Adams, then proceeded to a donut shop down the street to sit and read it. She ordered a cup of coffee and, at the last minute, gave in to temptation and got herself a donut, as well. Then she settled in at one of the small tables toward the back.
The report was only half a dozen pages long, and most of what it covered Simon had already told her. But the report contained dates and addresses and copies of official documents. It was the death certificate for Martha Adams that caught Kali’s interest. Not the cause of death, which was, as Simon had told her, an auto accident, but Martha’s maiden name. Crystal. Could Raelene Adams be the elusive Crystal, after all?
She found the phone number for Ray Adams, took one last sip of coffee, and stepped outside to make her call.
A woman answered. “Adams residence.” Crisp and formal.
“Is Raelene around?” Kali asked.
There was a moment’s hesitation. “Perhaps you should speak to Mrs. Adams.”
Kali heard a click, like she’d been put on hold. Then another voice came on. “This is Pat Adams.”
“I’m trying to reach Raelene,” Kali said.
A moment’s hesitation. “She isn’t living here anymore.”
“Do you know how I can get in touch with her?”
“No, I don’t.” Pat Adams spoke with the finality of someone starting to hang up.
“When did she leave?” Kali asked, hoping for even a glimmer of information about the girl.
“Who did you say you were?”
“My name is Kali. I’m a . . . friend of a friend of hers.”
“You mean that creep Clayton?”
Who was Clayton? “No,” Kali said, blindly tossing out bait in hopes of snaring something. “I know Olivia and Hayley.”
“Never heard of them. I’m afraid I can’t help you.”
“Who is Clayton?” Kali asked. But Pat Adams had already hung up the phone.
Kali made copies of the photo she’d been carrying and circled back to Simon’s office. Luckily, he hadn’t gone out.
“How soon can you get to San Diego?” she asked.
“Tomorrow or the next day. You’ve decided to go ahead?”
Kali nodded. She handed him the photo of the three girls, pointing to Crystal. “I want to know if this is Raelene Adams. If it is, find out whatever you can about her background. Mostly, I want to know where she is now. She’s using the name Crystal, at least some of the time. I think she was living in Tucson a month or so ago, staying with this young woman”—Kali pointed to the photo again—”Hayley Hendrix. She was murdered not long ago.”
“Who’s the third girl?”
“Olivia Perez. Also murdered. John was a suspect in that murder.”
“Oh, man.” Simon frowned. “Was this what he wanted, to find the Adams girl?”
“He didn’t give you any indication?”
“No, just the names Ray and Martha Adams. But like I told you, we were working in stages.”
“I’m not sure if finding her was his goal,” Kali sai
d, answering Simon’s earlier question. “I think so, but I have no idea why.”
Simon rubbed at his chin. “Are you sure you want to know?”
Wanting had nothing to do with it at this point. She had to know.
<><><>
Kali’s cell phone rang as she was leaving Simon’s office. She could see from the readout that it was Carmen Escobar, lawyer for the Perez family. As she answered, Kali looked around in vain for a spot of shade. The day’s heat was already building.
“I think it might be helpful if we sat down and talked,” Carmen said, lawyer-style chummy.
“Helpful how?” Kali was certain there was nothing she could say that would dissuade the woman from filing suit.
“The trial is bound to garner attention. Do you really want to see your brother’s name dragged through the mud?”
Kali had reached her car. She opened the door to a fresh blast of heat. “You’ve got this all wrong. If we go to trial, John will be vindicated.”
Carmen laughed. “I doubt it. In fact, the intrigue grows.”
“What do you mean?”
“We need to talk.”
“Isn’t that what we’re doing?” Kali slid into the car and turned on the engine to get the air-conditioning going.
“In person.”
Kali sighed. “Okay, when?”
They agreed on one o’clock that afternoon.
<><><>
The single-story stucco bungalow that housed Carmen Escobar’s office was in need of a paint job and, to Kali’s taste, a little landscaping. In the dirt patch between the building and the sidewalk, nothing was planted except a sun-bleached wooden sign that read LAW OFFICE, CARMEN ESCOBAR, ESQ.
Kali stepped into the reception area and shivered in the sudden chill of the air-conditioning. She gave her name to the secretary, a pudgy Hispanic woman, who called over her shoulder through the open doorway to the back of the house.
“Hey, Carmen, your one o’clock is here. Want me to send her in?”
A voice called, “Yeah, I’m ready.”
The secretary pointed Kali to what must originally have been the living room of the house. It was now partially closed off from the entrance with a three-panel screen.
Carmen Escobar was a tiny woman who looked to be in her early forties. She had a sharp nose; full mouth; and wiry, shoulder- length hair that was clipped at the nape of her neck with a leather barrette.
When Carmen held out a hand, her dark eyes flashed with intensity. “Glad you could meet with me.”
“I think it’s probably a waste of our time,” Kali told her, looking around. The office was pleasantly furnished with rustic Mexican style pieces and bright, deep colors. While the attorney might not have shown much interest in the exterior of the building, she’d clearly paid attention to details in the space around her.
“I hope it’s not a waste,” Carmen replied. She showed Kali to a round, antique pine conference table near her desk. The show of equal footing was no doubt part of the attorney’s strategy. “As you know, I represent Olivia Perez’s parents. They are devastated by the loss of their daughter.”
“I’m sure they are.” Kali sat down in one of the heavy wooden chairs.
“And it’s only right they should be compensated for their loss.” She waited for Kali to jump in and frowned when Kali remained silent. “It would be in both of our interests to settle this matter, you know.”
“Settle what? You’ve accused my brother of murder. And now you’re asking to be paid off not to forge ahead with those accusations.”
Carmen’s smile was controlled. “I don’t see it that way at all. I’m trying to save both sides—the Perez family as well as yours— the aggravation and expense of a trial. If we don’t work something out now, between ourselves, you know damn well the court is going to try to herd us into a settlement down the line. Only by then we’ll both have invested a lot of time and energy.”
True, the judge would order a pretrial settlement conference. That was standard procedure. And by then, Carmen Escobar would have logged in countless hours of trial preparation. Better for her that she get her cut now, with relatively little expended effort.
In all fairness, an early settlement would be easier for Kali, too. But she didn’t intend to settle. Certainly not until she knew more about what had really happened when Sloane and Olivia were murdered.
“They lost their child,” Carmen said. “Their only daughter. She was the light of their life. Do you have children of your own, Kali?”
“I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“The loss of a child, no matter what the child’s age, is a blow like no other.”
“I’m not without sympathy,” Kali said. “I can understand that Mr. and Mrs. Perez must be grief-stricken. But my brother had nothing to do with their daughter’s death.”
“It’s not simply the emotional loss,” Carmen continued, “as unspeakable as that is. There’s the very real financial loss to consider, as well. These are poor people. Olivia was the first in her family to go to college. They were counting on her being there to help them in the years ahead.”
“We don’t know that she would have,” Kali pointed out. “She certainly wouldn’t have been obligated to.”
Carmen’s smile widened, revealing sharp incisors. “I think you’ll find that most jurors are not sympathetic to that position.”
She was probably right. Emotional arguments often had more sway with jurors than reasoned ones. Jury trials were a crapshoot anyway. In Kali’s experience you could never tell what the outcome would be.
Still, Kali wasn’t going to be railroaded into an early settlement. “I’m truly sorry for the Perez family’s loss,” she said. “But paying them is out of the question. My brother didn’t kill Olivia Perez or Sloane Winslow.”
“Keep in mind,” Carmen said, “that in a civil trial the jurors don’t have to be convinced beyond a reasonable doubt.” She smoothed a hand over the surface of the small conference table. “And since John is no longer around . . . well, they’re likely to think helping the Perez family is, to put it bluntly, no skin off his nose.”
“That’s a disgusting thing to say”
“It’s the truth.” Carmen leaned her forearms on the table. Her eyes were fiery. “I have no doubt I’d prevail at trial. And if we go that route, we’re going to ask for a lot of money, believe me.” She sat back. “I grant you, a trial will take a toll on everyone. I’m particularly concerned about putting Olivia’s parents through that. So we’re ready to compromise. I think they’d be willing to look at a lowball offer. Maybe in the ballpark of, say, a quarter of a million.”
“Absolutely not.” Kali pushed back from the table. She was seething inside. She’d settled cases in the past, but she’d never felt manipulated as she did now. “And you’d better look at the evidence again before you get so cocky about winning.”
Carmen raised an eyebrow and smiled smugly.
“Do you really think my brother would kill his best friend’s sister over a silly job?”
Carmen looked her in the eye. “Actually, I’m thinking maybe there’s more to it.”
“What do you mean?”
“It seems a friend of Olivia’s was killed a couple of weeks earlier. A young woman by the name of Hayley.”
Kali felt sick. How had Carmen learned about Hayley? “Nothing ties John to that murder,” Kali said.
“Well, not directly. But Hayley’s wallet was found in a Dumpster several weeks ago. It wasn’t until after they had an ID on the body that they put it all together, of course.”
“So?”
“There was a slip of paper in her wallet with the phone number for Logan Foods. I think we need to look at the possibility that it was Olivia your brother was after.”
The thought had been lurking in the muddy depths of Kali’s mind ever since she’d learned Olivia was one of the girls in the photo. But to hear it spoken aloud, especially by Carmen Escobar, sent ice water
through her veins.
“Perhaps your brother was somehow involved with both young women. In fact, I’ve already got someone looking into it.” Carmen smiled again. “It’s a story that would certainly get media attention.”
Kali was on her feet without realizing she’d actually stood. “You’re way out of line.”
“I’m trying to be fair and share information with you,” Carmen responded. “In the hopes we can reach an amicable agreement.”
Whatever happened, it wouldn’t be amicable.
“I told you this meeting would be a waste.” Kali grabbed her purse and headed for the door.
Chapter 30
There was no sign of activity around Sloane Winslow’s house when Kali pulled up in front. She would have loved to get inside again, but she was afraid to push her luck. Instead, she headed next door to Janet Fisher’s.
Despite the late afternoon heat, a slender boy in his mid-teens was shooting baskets in the driveway.
“Is your mom home?” Kali asked.
“She won’t be back until later.”
Kali stepped to the side so the sun wasn’t in her eyes. “You on the team?”
The boy laughed with good-natured humor. “Do I look like a player to you?”
He had a point. He was only a couple of inches taller than Kali, and his gait was awkward.
“You never know,” she said.
He dribbled the ball in a zigzag, then tried a shot at the basket. It circled the rim before rolling off. He gave her a cockeyed grin. “See what I mean?”
“No one’s a hundred percent all the time.”
He laughed again. “I’d settle for half the time.”
The sun was relentless. She gave him credit for being out there practicing. “My name is Kali,” she said. “I’m a friend of Sloane Winslow’s brother.” It was easier to give the boy the same story she’d told his mother. And it wasn’t exactly untrue.
“I’m Mitch.”
“It must have been kind of upsetting having a double murder next door,” she said, sidestepping into the questions she really wanted to ask.
The Next Victim Page 22
