Faye Kellerman - Decker 05 - False Prophet

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by False Prophet


  Treasure the simple things.

  He took another bite and saw Marge enter the squad room, her hands shuffling little pink message slips. He whistled, she looked up, and he motioned her over. She pulled up a chair and Decker noticed his partner's longing eyes. He handed her the other half of his sandwich.

  "Are you sure?" Marge said.

  "My mother raised me with manners."

  Marge bit into the bread before he could change his mind. "You know what I need?"

  "You're talking with your mouth full. Detective Dunn."

  "I need a wife."

  "I'll tell Rina to make extra next time."

  "I don't understand why her sandwiches are consistently better than mine. Why do I have such an adversarial relationship with food?"

  "Lie on ze couch und vee can discuss it." Decker sipped coffee. "How's Lilah?"

  "She was still freaked out. Can't say I blame her."

  "Are you okay?" "All in a day's work, Margie."

  "I've seen mounted police," Marge said. "You're the first mounted detective so far as I know."

  "That's me—a real trendsetter." Decker finished his coffee. "The whole thing happened... what? Six hours ago?" He shook his head. "Surreal. Anyway, did Lilah tell you anything?"

  Marge said, "I couldn't get much out of her with Freddy staring over my shoulder. And when she did speak, her voice had that eerie calm that victims often have. Disbelief. She also kept asking where you were, Pete." She licked her fingers. "She wanted to know if you were all right. Do you have a tissue or a napkin? I got mustard on my hands."

  Decker opened his desk, took out a short-order arrest form and handed it to her. "Did you tell her I was fine?"

  Marge wiped her fingers on stiff paper. "Sure. But it was more than just a query. She wanted you. She tolerated my presence but wasn't happy about it. And then when I started asking her nuts-and-bolts questions, she spaced out." "Maybe Freddy had her sedated."

  Marge shook her head. "I asked Freddy if he'd given her anything. The doctor became offended. Freddy doesn't believe in sedatives, tranquilizers, muscle relaxants, or anything else that artificially knocks out the body and/or mind. When I left, he was preparing a ginseng and gingerroot bath to soothe Lilah's nerves. Then they were going to meditate." Marge brushed hair away from her eyes. "Sounds rather peaceful, actually."

  "Did Lilah have any idea who might have tampered with the

  horse?"

  "Only that if we found the men who stole her father's memoirs, we'd find the demons who were plaguing her. Why are those damn memoirs so important to her?"

  "It's her father's legacy to her. She's placed inordinate importance on them, conveniently forgetting that there was also a million dollars of ice stowed in the safe."

  "But it does look like someone's out to get her."

  Decker sipped coffee. "Maybe not get her, only scare her."

  "For what reason?"

  "So she won't testify against him—or them."

  "She knows who did it?"

  "I said from the start this looks like an inside job."

  "An inside mill jewel heist with a rape to boot," Marge said. "Stringers are gonna love it. The good captain, however, won't be too pleased."

  "I'm hoping to solve the damn thing before it gets into the blotters. Look how far we've come in two days."

  "How far have we come, Pete?"

  Decker thought about that and frowned. He took out his notebook. "Let's start at the path of least resistance."

  Marge laughed. "Let's."

  "Carl Totes," Decker said. "I've been wracking my brain over him. He, more than anyone, had access to the horses. And he had means and experience to dope the animals up. But what would be the motivation? He adores Lilah and has nothing to gain if she died."

  "Maybe someone was paying him to do dirty work."

  "Totes as a hit man?"

  "Okay, maybe the idea was to scare Lilah, not kill her, just like you said. Maybe someone was paying him to do... to pull off a little practical joke. Pete, look at the way Totes lives. Could be he wants more out of life than sleeping in a stable."

  Decker said, "Nah, I think he likes living that way. Simple, uncluttered—like his mind."

  "Anyone can be bought."

  "You're right," Decker said. "But you have to use the right currency."

  "Maybe they're buying Totes with a woman, Pete."

  Decker thought about that. "Okay. Name me a woman."

  Marge paused. "Kelley Ness?"

  "What hat did you pull her out of?"

  "Farfetched," Marge admitted.

  "Stratospheric," Decker said.

  Marge said, "There's something odd about her, Pete. It's not that she wasn't cooperative, just that... it's her relationship with her brother. I observed them together when they weren't looking. They meet quite a bit—minutes at a time only, but there's an intimacy. Whispering to each other, touching each other. Nothing sexual, a hand on a shoulder, a pat on the back, but..."

  "Incest?"

  "I've thought about it. Or maybe she's just one of those baby

  sisters who adores her big brother. I don't trust Mike a bit. He has something up his proverbial sleeve. I could see him putting Kelley up to something."

  Decker said, "I don't see Totes being lured by Kelley Ness but let's assume he was. Marge, Totes is knowledgeable about horses. If he were trying to scare Lilah using Apollo, he'd know better than to give the horse PCP. Totes would know it was a tran-quilizer."

  "So that's perfect, Peter," Marge said. "He was trying to scare Lilah, not kill her."

  "What scare? Most likely, the horse would just keel over and go to sleep. It would be a little strange, but not terrifying."

  "But it would send a message. 'You saw who stole the jewels. Keep it zipped or the next time the horse won't wake up.' '

  "Okay... okay, you have a point." Decker doodled in his notebook. "Totes is looking pretty damn good. So someone put Totes up to spooking Lilah. Who?"

  "I like Ness. I also like Kingston Merritt," Marge said. "I just got back the prelim paper on both him and John Reed. Freddy Brecht hasn't come in yet. Both Reed and Merritt are solvent, but Merritt doesn't have a lot of room for play. He's only got about five grand in savings. Not much for an OB-GYN earning three hundred fifty a year." "No, it isn't."

  Marge said, "Well, his bread is going somewhere." "You see Merritt working directly with a guy like Carl Totes?" Marge paused. "Maybe he used an intermediary." "I don't know..." Decker exhaled forcibly. "Call it a gut feeling, but I just don't see Totes... fuck my gut feeling. Let's see if we can find any paper on Totes. Any sudden influx of cash." Marge said, "I'll keep digging. God, what a mess. We got Totes, Merritt, Ness—"

  "You know Ness dropped by the place today. Said he came by to pick veggies, that he had done it before. He was awfully curious about what happened. He claimed he was at the spa all morning. Now the spa and the ranch are five minutes apart?" "About."

  "Conceivably, he could have come down and dusted the horse's fodder and slipped away unnoticed." "Totes was around—" "Suppose Totes was in the corral working out one of the horses.

  Ness could have been in and out in five minutes. That would give him access and means for the crime."

  Marge said, "And talk about motivation, as in money. Ness is definitely buyable. When I talked to him, he frothed at the mouth at the thought of owning a spa like VALCAN."

  Decker asked, "Maybe Kingston Merritt was paying Ness and not Totes to drug the horse. Could those two be working together?"

  Marge said, "You know, when the altercation occurred between Freddy and Kingston, Ness stepped in. He was talking to Kingston like he was a stranger... but in my mind, they looked like they knew each other."

  "Hey, it would fit nicely with my theory that the case was an inside job."

  "And I could see Ness giving a horse Angel Dust. He'd probably even think a stoned horse would be very humorous."

  "A stoned horse sending a message t
o Lilah?"

  "Well, maybe he figured the horse would go crazy—like humans on PCP do. But not too crazy. Except, Pete, who knew that Lilah was going to ride Apollo except Totes?"

  Decker grimaced. "True. So we're back to Totes."

  "Hell, Pete, maybe they're all in it together—used different people for different jobs. They used Totes for the horse and a bunch of lowlifes for the burglary. One of them got carried away and raped her. It's happened before. If you figure Ness to be involved, maybe he was involved in the burglary/rape." She smiled. "Despite Lilah's imaging, the attackers were masked. It could have been Ness and she wouldn't have known it."

  Decker said, "I don't have trouble visualizing Ness as a rapist. He admitted wanting to fuck Lilah. Let's get some tissue samples from him."

  "Why single out Ness?"

  "You're right. Let's ask for samples from all of the male employees of the spa. We could also get Jeffers that way."

  "Jeffers the poker," Marge said. "I see him as a sneak thief, not a rapist."

  "But if he was shielded behind a mask?"

  "Yeah, he could do it. Once you're a scumbag, nothing's off limits. What about Totes? We should get a tissue sample on him, too."

  "Absolutely," Decker said.

  Marge sat back in her chair. "You know, Pete, Lilah, more than anyone, had access to her horse."

  "Lilah poisoning her own horse," Decker said. "It crossed my mind. She liked being rescued the first time by me. Maybe she was hoping for a repeat. Except she didn't know I could ride."

  "Maybe she didn't expect you to rescue her. Maybe she gave her horse PCP figuring Apollo would keel over in the middle of the ride, proving her point that someone was out to get her."

  "Yeah, she seemed anxious to convince me that her power was real. I hate to say this, but when it was happening, I was almost convinced she did have some... supernatural thing."

  "Prophet Lilah."

  "False prophet Lilah." Decker arched his brow. "She's a strange woman. I'll tell you this much—if she did tamper with her horse, she took a big chance. She almost died!"

  "It's still a valid thought—she's unstable."

  "Agreed. Ever make contact with John Reed?"

  Marge shook her head. "We've been playing phone tag. I'll try him again. I did get a call back from Burglary. None of the jewels have come through any big fences. How about you and Lilah's ex-husband... yet another iron in the fire."

  "Perry Goldin. I called his house. His tape machine said he was playing at the Bridge Emporium between five and seven today. If I leave now, I could make it there by six-thirty."

  Marge sat back and appraised him. "I don't see you as a bridge player, Pete."

  "Hey, they didn't call me the Slam Bammer in the army for

  nothing."

  Marge said, "I would have thought they called you that for

  other reasons."

  Decker frowned. "Maybe it was for other reasons. Hell, it was so long ago, I've forgotten." He shook his head. "A sad commentary on life."

  Flying on the freeway when the RTO patched the call over the line. So much for daytime reverie. Decker picked up the mike and depressed the button, annoyed to hear his ex-wife's voice. After Cindy turned eighteen, he felt he was finally done with Jan. "What's up?" he said.

  "I'm sorry to call you like this, Pete. Your home number was disconnected. Are you moving?"

  "Don't worry. I'll make sure you have a current address for sending Cindy's bills."

  "Oh, God, Pete, do we have to go—?"

  "Sorry, that wasn't necessary. No, we're not moving. I had our phone number changed. What can I do for you?"

  "I was just wondering if tonight was a good time for Alan and me to drop off Cindy's car?"

  Decker hesitated. "Why would I want Cindy's car? Am I suppose to lube it or something?"

  "You don't want it, Pete, but Cindy might want it over the summer."

  "Hold on a sec." Decker slowed, then finally stopped the Plymouth on the right-hand shoulder of the freeway. He rolled down the windows and hot air wafted through the interior. Taking off his jacket, he picked up the mike, shouting to be heard above the traffic. "I'm missing something. Is Cindy staying with me this summer?"

  "Peter Jedidiah Decker, don't you dare futz out on me! Do you know how long Alan and I have been planning this trip? Not to mention the expense we've already shelled out on wardrobe and luggage—"

  "Hold on, Jan. I'm not futzing out on anyone. I'm just confused."

  "So what else is new?"

  "Do you want help or do you want to piss me off?"

  Jan said, "Cindy assured me that she had arranged to stay with you this summer so Alan and I could take our dream vacation to Europe."

  "Cindy never arranged a damn thing with me, Jan. But it's no problem. I can take her for the summer. I can take her anytime you want. God knows, you've done more than your fair share with her."

  Nobody spoke for a moment.

  "That was nice, Pete."

  "Yeah, I throw you a bone every once in a while."

  "She didn't clear it with you?"

  "No, Jan, she didn't. But I can take her."

  "We're planning on being away the entire summer—"

  "It's no problem."

  Decker thought: A two-month European vacation with no children. And here he was with a pregnant wife. By the time he and Rina reached the stage where Jan and Alan were, he'd be sixty-one....

  "Have a good time," he said.

  "I can't believe Cindy didn't tell you," Jan said. "I offered to call, but she insisted she'd handle it."

  Decker said, "Has she sounded upset to you lately?"

  "Not any more than usual."

  "Well, she's been really upset with me. That's probably the reason. What did she think? I'd say no?"

  "I don't know... but maybe Cindy feels you don't need her anymore now that your wife is expecting—"

  "That is so stupid, Jan! Totally ridiculous!"

  "Fine, Pete, I'm stupid and ridiculous! Can we bring over her car or not?"

  "Cindy is my daughter, for chrissakes! Nothing will ever change that! What are you suggesting? Sibling rivalry between an eighteen-year-old and an infant?"

  "The car, Pete?" Jan sounded weary. "Around eight?"

  "Yeah, bring the car over around eight."

  "I'm hanging up now, Pete."

  Decker heard the line go dead. He sat, hands on the wheel, listening to the sound of vehicles speeding past him. It was hot and smoggy and he was worn out. But he had a job to do. A burden being responsible. He adjusted his butt in the seat, buckled his shoulder harness, and started the engine. He was proud that he remembered to unclench his teeth before he put the car in gear.

  There it was—the knock.

  Mike Ness rolled onto his back and closed his eyes. "It's open, Kell."

  He heard the door shut and a chair pull up next to the bed. "What is it this time?"

  "The lady detective's back, Mike."

  "I know, Kelt. I just talked to her."

  "You did? When?"

  "A few minutes ago." Ness turned onto his side. "You need me to cover for you or something?"

  "Stop playing games with me, Michael!" Kelley shouted. "You know how important this job is to me. Swear to me you had nothing to do—"

  "Goddamn it, just knock it off!" Ness leaped up and pounded his wall. "I'm getting sick of your whining, you know that?"

  The room was silent. Ness turned around and groaned. Little Kell just sitting there, eyes filled with tears, lips in that little pout. Just like old times. It was the pout that always got to him. So helpless...

  He walked over and kissed her forehead, letting his lips rest on her cool skin. He'd always been envious of her complexion, not a single pimple or blackhead even during her teenage years. He felt Kelley stroke his cheek tenderly.

  "You need a shave," she said.

  "Davida likes me like this." He pulled away and began to mas-

  sage her shoulders. "She
thinks I look sinister. You're tight, sis."

  "I'm nervous."

  "Relax."

 

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