by Rose Beecham
Jude scooped the peanuts from the box, pausing to enable Koertig to photograph the contents as she lifted them out. “Looks like our vic backed up his computer after all.”
She pulled out a couple of zip drives and a storage box of CDs, all labeled with dates.
“Floppy discs,” one of the detectives marveled. “You don’t see these anymore.”
“Old home movies.” Jude bagged several Super 8mm reels, then dug down to a set of notebooks. She held them up for Koertig, scooped away the last of the peanuts, and lifted out a heavy stack of large yellow business envelopes.
She opened the first and withdrew a set of glossy photographs. They had the heavily saturated hues of 1980s Kodacolor. She only had to glance at the subjects and poses to know why Maulle had hidden this stash away.
“Child pornography,” she said, sliding the pictures back into their envelope.
“Jesus,” Koertig said. “Why would he want his niece to find this shit?”
“I’ll leave you to figure that out,” Jude said. “I need to get going.”
Koertig walked out to the pickup with her. She could see he’d picked up on her mood. “You okay?”
“When I left Crimes Against Children, I hoped I’d never see that stuff again.”
“I’ll take care of it,” Koertig said.
“Record everything,” Jude told him. “Copy all the images and send them to CVIP for analysis and victim identification.”
Koertig shoved his hands in his pockets as though he wasn’t sure what to do with them. “I thought Maulle was an okay guy.”
“So did his family,” Jude said. “Let’s hold off breaking the news for a few days. They have enough to deal with, and we need to process all the evidence before we leap to conclusions. There’s a lot more to this case than porn.”
“You got it.”
“I’ll check in later.” She had a thought. “You might want to start with the notebooks. They could help put everything else in context.”
“Great,” said Koertig. “Diaries of a sicko.”
*
Jude walked around the side of Deputy Sherman’s house and crossed the long back yard to the wire mesh fence that surrounded the dog-training area. As she’d expected, Tulley was there living his dream, hanging upside down on a climbing frame while Smoke’m licked his face. Gavin Sherman had his K-9 poised on a teeter-totter. Jude had the impression the Belgian Malinois thought the exercise was child’s play and only tolerated these puerile games to indulge his human.
Sherman gave Jude a proud wave and called, “Afternoon, Detective. Beer’s in the fridge. Help yourself.”
Tulley lost his balance and fell off the frame trying to greet her. Yelling, “Watch this, ma’am,” he flailed a padded arm and encouraged Smoke’m to attack.
The hound sat down next to him and yawned. Jude could not foresee them bringing home a $10,000 prize. She followed the concrete path to the back door and located the kitchen. The Shermans were remodeling. Drawers were stacked on the kitchen counter next to a belt sander, and various tools were strewn around.
As Jude hunted for a bottle opener, she realized she wasn’t alone in the house. At first she thought the sounds she could hear were coming from a TV, then she listened more carefully and froze. Small shrill moans were punctuated with thuds, as if a woman in the back of the house was tied up and struggling to free herself.
For a split second, Jude considered rushing outside to get help, but the sounds were getting louder and she couldn’t take the risk. She unholstered her weapon, flipped the safety, and crept rapidly along the hallway toward the back of the house. Her mind raced through possible scenarios. Sherman had a wife. Had she been accosted in her own home while her husband was out back teaching his dog to climb ladders?
“Oh, God. Stop. Please. I can’t take any more.” Frantic female cries came from behind the door a few feet away.
Jude closed the distance, soft-checked the handle, then kicked the door open and stepped back, yelling, “County Sheriff. Show me your hands.”
She advanced into the room in a semicircle, checking over her shoulder to make sure there were no other assailants. Two adults occupied the bed. Both had their backs to her, the male kneeling over the female.
He raised his hands and said, “Oh, man.”
The “victim” he was having sex with craned around to demand, “Who are you? What are you doing in my home?” She was red-faced and panting.
Jude stalked over to the bed to get a better look at the “offender.” She lowered her weapon. “Bobby Lee?”
“Do you two know each other?” The victim pulled a sheet around her breasts.
“Tell her,” Jude invited.
“This is Tulley’s boss,” Bobby Lee said.
“Oh, crap. Please don’t say anything,” the blonde begged.
“Are you Mrs. Sherman?”
“Yes, I’m Crystal.” A panicky whine. “Where’s Gavin?”
Jude was incredulous. “You two are fucking while her husband is out in the yard?”
Crystal gave her a sulky look. “If he didn’t live out there, this wouldn’t be happening.”
“Don’t you have a day job?” Jude asked.
“I sell male enhancement products on eBay.”
Bobby Lee asked, “Do those work?”
“You don’t need any help in that department, sugar,” Crystal said, placing a purposeful paw beneath the sheets.
Jude groaned. “What were you thinking?” she asked Bobby Lee.
Before he could reply, the thud of footsteps in the hallway was followed by a shrill bleat of dismay. Tulley stepped into the bedroom, his ears cranberry red. In disbelief, he stared at Jude, then at the gun she still held loosely at her side.
“Don’t shoot,” he squeaked. “It’s all my fault.”
“You two, get dressed, for Chrissakes.” She holstered the Glock, took Tulley’s arm, and escorted him out into the living room. “You knew this was going on?”
“Bobby said it wouldn’t matter none to you,” Tulley whined. “If I would have known—”
“I’m not the problem.” Jude marched him to the kitchen and pointed out the window. “That’s the problem.”
Even as she said the words, she realized she was looking at an opportunity. Being “cheated on” by Bobby Lee meant she could terminate their “relationship” and receive sympathy. Her hetero credentials would remain intact but she could get rid of the “boyfriend” who legitimized them. She and Bobby Lee had been trying to find a way to close down their “beard” operation, mostly because it cramped his style. But Jude also disliked the deception. It was one thing to leave assumptions uncorrected, another to have to lie blatantly to the few people she felt close to.
Backtracking slightly, she said, “What I’m saying is, of course I’m upset, but I’m not going to go crazy and risk my career over a no-good, cheating boyfriend. But out there is a husband who’s a law officer.”
“I told Bobby Lee this was a darn fool idea.”
“Well, he’s not a big listener when it comes to chasing skirt.”
“Ain’t that the truth?” Tulley gave her a sickly grin. “I mean—”
“It’s a bit late to spare my feelings,” Jude said.
“You have to understand something.” Tulley’s tone took on a frantic quality. Predictably, he tried to paint his best friend in a rosier light. “That Crystal, she’s a man chaser. She can’t keep her hands to herself. Bobby Lee said she’s processing something and acting out inappropriately.”
“Please tell me you’re not sleeping with her, too.”
“No, she laid off of me soon as she saw Bobby Lee.”
“Well, that’s lovely.”
Tulley studied the floor. “Sorry.”
“It was bound to happen sooner or later.” Jude gave his shoulder a poke. “Now, listen carefully. You can’t tell anyone about this. If Sherman found out, well, I’d hate to think what he might do. You don’t want a colleague ruining his
career over a cheating wife, do you?”
“No, ma’am.”
“This unfortunate situation calls for a creative approach. Obviously, I’m going to dump Bobby Lee’s ass.”
Loyally, her deputy said, “He’s sure asking for it.”
“So, we have an opportunity.”
Tulley squinted. “How’s that?”
“You’re going to circulate the story that I came around here all riled up and tore him a new one because I found out he’s been seeing a woman in Durango.”
“That’ll work. Everyone already knows about her.”
Jude produced a shocked expression. “Do you mean to tell me Mrs. Sherman isn’t the only one?”
Tulley gulped. “I thought you knew.”
“Apparently I’m the last person to find out my boyfriend’s still up to his old tricks.” Jude heaved a loud, self-pitying sigh. “How embarrassing.”
“I know for a fact those women don’t mean a thing to him,” Tulley blurted.
Jude treated this thin consolation with the contempt it deserved. “I’ve had about all I can take. I’m going back in there.”
Tulley hurried to stand in her path, his dark amber eyes flashing in panic. “Don’t do something you’ll regret. He’s not worth it, boss.”
“Get out of my way,” Jude said. “It’s time he learned his lesson.” She shoved Tulley aside, noting, “You’ve packed on some muscle, Deputy.”
As he beamed into the mirror at the end of the hall, she threw open the door to the master bedroom and pointed at Crystal Sherman. “You, get out of here and go make nice to your husband before he finds out he married a slut. As for you”—while Crystal looked on in horror, she spun Bobbie Lee around and handcuffed him—“you’re coming with me.”
“What are you going to do to him?” Crystal whined.
“Want to find out?” Jude produced a spare set of handcuffs and waved them in front of the nympho wife’s startled face. “These are for you if you’re not out of my sight in five seconds.”
As Crystal scuttled from the room, Bobbie Lee said, “I guess this is gonna be all over town and I’ll be a hunted man.”
“Relax,” Jude told him. “We can leave Crystal out of this. It’s that woman in Durango I’m pissed about.”
He craned around at her, his blond cowlick falling across his eyes. “The waitress or the teacher?”
From the doorway, Tulley said, “There’s this program at the United Church. Sexaholics Anonymous.”
“How would you know?” Bobby Lee asked, not unreasonably.
Tulley chose to ignore the question, instead negotiating on his friend’s behalf, asking Jude, “If he promises to join the program, will you let him loose?”
“No.” She hustled Bobby Lee out into the living room and through the front door.
As they reached the Dakota, Gavin Sherman strode out from behind the house, Crystal hanging off his arm. Her breasts heaving beneath her snugly fitting crop-top, she planted her hands on her hips and shrilly informed Bobby Lee, “I bet you’re sorry now, asshole!”
Before Bobby Lee could utter a bemused word, Sherman’s fist connected with his jaw and he sagged against Jude.
“That’s for trying to grope my wife,” the deputy said. With a respectful nod at Jude, he added, “You can consider that a blow in defense of your honor, too, Detective. If there’s one thing I can’t tolerate, that’s a cheat.”
“Fair enough.” Jude signaled Tulley. “Wrap up whatever you’re doing with that hound and meet me at headquarters in an hour. You’re wanted in Telluride.”
“Me? Why?”
“Because none of the FBI agents are handsome enough to charm the organizers.”
Tulley studied her face uncertainly.
Jude said, “That was a joke, Deputy.”
Fidgeting, he asked, “Where are you taking Bobby Lee?”
“Somewhere I can beat him up without witnesses.”
Sherman clapped Tulley across the shoulder. “Hell hath no fury” was his cheerful verdict. “Come on, buddy. Let’s go work that A-frame before you head back.”
As soon as they were out of sight, Jude removed the handcuffs from Bobby Lee and helped him up. “Are you okay?”
He cradled his face. “I’m ruined.”
Jude lifted his hand away to inspect the damage. “You’ll live. Apart from the bloody nose, you’ll just have puffiness and bruising.”
“Oh, that’s just perfect. Did you plan this?” he asked suspiciously.
“No. Did you?”
He shook his head. “Tulley couldn’t handle her, so I intervened.”
“I appreciate that. Sorry about your face.”
“It’s not the first time.” Bobby Lee held out his hand. “Friends?”
“Absolutely.” Jude dropped a quick kiss on his undamaged cheek after the handshake. She’d grown fond of her phony boyfriend in the two years of their fictional relationship. “Stay away from Crystal.”
“You bet your ass I will.” He tried to flash his teeth but winced in pain. “Stay away from Dr. Westmoreland.”
“I’m working on it. Are you going to that goddamned soirée?”
“Yeah, Agatha sweet-talked me into it. Are you?”
“Uh-huh.” Jude had arrived at a brilliant plan. She was going to invite Hill on the pretext that they would be seeing various Telluride Film Festival luminaries and could gather intelligence. In reality, she planned to flaunt Hill in front of Mercy to prove that she’d moved on.
Bobby Lee said, “Unbelievable. I’m going to have a black eye when I meet the beautiful people.”
“You’ll look like a bad boy.”
He grinned crookedly. “Aren’t you tempted by that, my darling?”
Jude laughed. “Get out of here before I blacken the other one.”
Chapter Fifteen
Jude pulled into the CRAP compound slightly after 8:00 a.m. For a Wednesday morning, the place buzzed with frenetic activity. Weary from the past several days, she leaned against her pickup and fought off a yawn. She needed coffee.
“My Valkyrie.” Harrison Hawke strode toward her from amidst a group of fellow fanatics, all in black uniform. They stared as he applied his dry lips delicately to her hand. “I wasn’t expecting to see you.”
“I hope this isn’t a bad time.”
His response came creepily close to a simper. “I am entirely at your disposal, Fräulein, regardless of the hour.”
He escorted her toward his barricaded dwelling, acknowledging heel clicks and salutes with sharp nods.
“Are you holding a training day?” Jude asked as soon as they were alone in front of the surveillance monitors in the Nazified living room.
“In a manner of speaking.” Hawke removed his black visor cap and dropped to his knees in front of her.
Staring down at his shiny bullet head, Jude thought, Oh, shit. Here it comes.
“Actions speak louder than words,” her suitor intoned. “The pages of the pan-Aryan struggle will be stained in blood and anointed with the honor and courage of those who sacrificed all. Among the names of those who founded the new White Homeland, yours will be emblazoned directly below mine.”
Jude said, “Harrison, what about your knee surgery? We could sit down.”
He gave a sharp, grateful nod and got to his feet with a grunt. They sat in the club chairs opposite the stone fireplace. As though to draw inspiration, Hawke gazed up his painting of Adolf Hitler for several revitalizing seconds. He then clutched Jude’s hand.
“Crucial decisions have been made since we last spoke. A new banner has been erected. The bell tolls and an initiative is underway to eliminate the false obstacles that divide us. We must shake loose the Manchurian candidates draining the lifeblood from our movement.”
So far, the strangest marriage proposal Jude had ever heard.
“The gauntlet has been thrown down.” His voice rose. “Petty dissent and ego-politics must be crushed if we are to usher in a new era. The cop-out of
leaderless resistance must be strangled at birth.”
“You’re going to meet with the ASS,” Jude deduced.
Hawke’s fingers poked between hers. They felt like lukewarm breakfast links. He said, “This Sunday. On neutral territory.”
“Where?”
“They proposed Ghost Canyon. I haven’t sent my response yet.”
Jude shook her head. “No, you’re too far from help out there. Access is via a bottleneck. And cell phone signal drops out in the canyon. Sounds like a trap to me.”
She knew the area well, spending at least half her time on calls relating to campsite thefts and missing cattle. The canyons had provided a haven for rustlers and outlaws for the past 150 years. If you wanted to disappear, or make someone else disappear, the opportunities were infinite.
“I have the greatest respect for your feminine instincts.” Hawke finally released her hand so he could fondle the reproduction SS dagger at his side. “Do you have a suggestion?”
“Lone Burro, the old mining camp just outside of Bedrock.”
“I’m not familiar with it.”
“Secluded but accessible. You can Jeep in and out. Close to a main highway. Excellent sniper positions. You can own this venue, Harrison.” She tossed the baited hook. “Perhaps there’s some advice I can offer, since I know the location. I’m willing to accompany you and your men. In plain clothes, of course.”
Hawke’s head flushed pink along with his face. His voice filled with emotion. “Fräulein, how can I ask you to take such a risk?”
“There is too much at stake for me not to.”
As she feared, this declaration spurred Hawke to pick up where he’d left off earlier. This time he stood to attention before her.
“Your noble idealism would be an inspiration to any man. For me, it fuels a flame that devours all doubt. In his darkest hours, der Führer reached out to the woman who shared his destiny throughout the greatest struggle of the century. He honored her sacrifice as I honor yours. Geliebte Fräulein, I—”
