“Then so be it. Then Francisco and I will drive back in my car. But that’s not going to happen.”
“It’s not?”
“No. I can be persuasive, Padrino. And no matter which way it goes, I will be able to spend some uninterrupted time with my son. Win, win. And right now, that’s all I’m in the mood for.”
Chapter Thirty-eight
By seven p.m. New Mexico time, or nine o’clock in New York state, the phone had remained blissfully silent. At 7:02, just as Francisco was making himself comfortable at the piano and Angie Trevino was uncasing the bizarre electronic cello, Estelle’s phone vibrated. She fished it out, and saw that it was Todd Stewart’s cell.
“Hold that thought,” she said to Francisco, who was in the middle of introducing Teresa’s Century, a concerto in B-flat for flute and piano.
“Ma, you got to throw that thing in the disposal,” the boy said, almost good-naturedly. Earlier, he had accepted her ultimatum about the trip back to Missouri without argument. For her part, Angie had only nodded without comment.
“The disposal would be a good place for it, but homicides change all the rules,” she offered as her only excuse. She stepped out onto the back patio and slid the door closed behind her.
“Guzman.”
“Undersheriff, this is Todd Stewart? I finally made contact. Stacie said that you called some sheriff back in New York? Near where her sister lives?”
“Yes. Sheriff Sharon Naylor.”
“Well, thank God Stacie’s all right. I finally got through to her. Look, she says that she’s going to visit her sis for a little while. She wouldn’t say how long.”
“She called you?”
“Yes. I have her new cell phone number, if you need it.”
“Yes, I do need it.” She jotted down the number as Stewart dictated. “She didn’t say whether or not she was coming home?”
A silence followed that. “No. She didn’t say. She wouldn’t say.”
Through the closed door, she could hear the surprisingly mellow sound of the cello being tuned in sync with the piano. The tiny amplifier, no larger than a soccer ball, produced sound of startling clarity.
“You asked?”
“Yes.”
“She didn’t answer the question?”
“No. She started crying. God.” He sighed deeply. “I guess it’s better knowing where she is than not, but…I don’t know. She said that she didn’t want me flying back there.”
“Did she tell you why she ran?”
“No. She just kept saying, ‘I have some things to straighten out.’ And then I asked her how she could just up and leave Ginger like that, and that set her off again. Hell, Estelle, I don’t know. She said that she was planning to call you, though. Apparently the sheriff told her she needed to do that first thing. Is it true?”
“Is what true?”
“Is all this tied in somehow with that murder at the school?”
“I don’t know how it’s related, Mr. Stewart, but my guess is that Stacie knows something about the circumstances of Scott’s murder. That makes her a valuable witness. We think that she was at the school sometime after the game. We’re not sure, but it’s likely. I don’t think that she actually witnessed the killing. But she might have been at the scene at some point, and can fill in some details. It might make a difference in how the murder suspect offers a plea.”
“My God. She’s not a suspect…”
“No. We have that person in custody.”
“Thank God for that. Is it someone I know?”
“I doubt it. The killing was unrelated to any relationship Stacie might have had with Clint Scott.”
“Relationship?” Stewart almost couldn’t finish the word, then he said in a half-mumble, “I suppose I’m a little naive.”
Just a little, Estelle thought. “When she does call, or when I reach her, we’ll see what she has to say for herself.”
“You’ll let me know?”
“Absolutely.”
“Call me anytime. Anytime.”
“I’ll do that.”
“I guess I should say ‘thanks,’ but I’m not feeling all that thankful at the moment, Sheriff.”
“Your daughter is safe and snug at home, and now you know where your wife is. That’s a start.”
“I guess.”
Back inside, the tiny audience looked at her expectantly, but she made an “it’s-nothing” gesture and sat on the fireplace hearth, settling her left hand on her mother’s right. Her husband sat to Teresa’s left, taking care of that hand.
“I need to go to bed,” Teresa whispered.
“Just this,” her daughter said.
“A quick eleven minutes,” Francisco offered. Estelle noticed that Angela Trevino had settled heavy manuscript paper on her slender, portable music stand. Dressed in a simple, sheer black dress with a silver-and-turquoise belt, Angie looked ready for the concert hall. She sat in one of the antique bentwood straight chairs from Teresa Reyes’ home in Mexico, and the modern cello offered a startling contrast.
True to form, the music rack in front of Francisco was bare. So gentle they were hard to hear, he stroked the four perfect fifths of the cello’s tuning, letting the high A linger for a moment while Angie made some small adjustments to her instrument.
“We spent almost all afternoon tuning this beast.” Francisco played a four-octave arpeggio and then nodded at his brother, Carlos. “Me and the man.” He looked across the piano toward Angie. She nodded. Teresa’s Century began with a single D in the treble, a note that grew from nothing until it swelled with power, a solo note so mellow and rich, one could become lost in it—and of such duration that it seemed impossible that a single bow stroke could play it.
Estelle slipped her hand into her pocket, found the tiny button, and turned off her cell phone. She closed her eyes and let the music carry her back to rural Mexico.
Chapter Thirty-nine
At nine-fifty that night, the ringtone on Estelle’s cell phone joined with the little instrument’s vibrating dance. Too exhausted to sleep, she had joined Bill Gastner and the rest of the family on the patio, letting the soft night humors wash away the drama of the day.
The displayed number carried the familiar area code for Pinnacle County, New York.
“This is Undersheriff Guzman,” she said. For a moment there was no response. When it came, her caller’s voice was husky, but the impatience came through clearly.
“Hi. This is Stacie Stewart. The sheriff here said that I should call you.”
“Ah, good evening.” Estelle rose from the patio table and walked back inside to the quiet of the living room. “I’m pleased that you called, Stacie.”
“What did you need?”
“There are some good people who are worried about you.”
After what could have been a sigh, Stacie’s tone was flat. “I’m sure they’ll get over it.”
Estelle paused. The last thing she wanted to hear was the click of disconnection. “You heard about Clint Scott?”
“I talked with Todd not too long ago. He said that someone killed Clint. I don’t believe that.”
“I’m afraid that it’s true. A young man is accused in the killing, Stacie. He’s admitted to it. At this point, it appears that his actions are unrelated to any relationship there may have been between you and the victim. But some events occurred that evening that you might be able to help us with.”
“I can’t imagine what.”
“After the volleyball game, did you return to the school?”
“Yes.”
“To see Scott?
“Yes.”
“Was that a usual place for you two to meet?”
Stacie hesitated. “We’d met at school after a game once or twice before.”
“And this time?”
“This time I was going to tell him face-to-face that we weren’t going to see each other anymore.”
“Did you see him? Did you tell him that?”
�
�I didn’t have the chance.” She paused and Estelle let her think uninterrupted.
“Someone killed him? Is what my husband said really true?” Hesitation cracked her voice, but her self-control was remarkable. “I was thinking that was just a really bad joke. That maybe he’d found out about us.”
“No joke, Stacie. At the school, and not long after you were there.”
“How do you know that? How do you know when I was there?”
“You were seen.” Estelle could hear the young woman suck in a long, shuddering breath. Apparently she was having difficulty being as stone-cold as she had first sounded. “Tell me what happened.”
“All right, look. As I approached the school, I saw two guys doing something. One of them was up on a ladder. And then all of a sudden, Clint comes charging out of the back door of the school. I don’t know. He must have heard them or something. Maybe he could see them out that little slit window on the side.”
“Had Mr. Scott left the back door open for you?”
“Yes. He said he would do that.”
“Had he done that before for you?”
Silence for the count of ten, and then Stacie said, “That’s no one’s business but ours.”
“In a case like this one…” Estelle started, then changed course. “We have a homicide here, Stacie. Any details that are related to the incident are important. So Coach Scott bursts out through the door…then what?”
“He yelled at the two kids. I couldn’t understand what he was saying. I think they were tagging the building.”
“How far away were you at this time?”
“I guess twenty-five yards or so. As soon as I saw Clint, I stopped. He didn’t see me.”
“He was yelling, and you couldn’t understand him?”
“Well, they were all three yelling at once, kinda. He swatted one of them away, and then somehow the ladder went down. The kid was way up high on it, and he went flying, all tangled up. He hit the ground so hard. And then this other kid…it was hard to really see…but it looked like he had a gun. And I’m thinking, whoa, no. I’m not going to get in the middle of this.”
“What did you do?”
“I ducked away. I should have done something, but I didn’t. I mean, no one knew I was there. So I just…left. I mean, I looked back just as Clint pitched the ladder into the back of the little truck they had there. I heard him say like, ‘Take your junk with you,’ or something like that. I was on the other side of the faculty parking lot when I heard the truck tear off.”
“Do you know what happened after that? Later that night?”
“Todd told me, but I still don’t believe it. Nobody is going to do something like that to Clint Scott.”
“And you didn’t think it would be reasonable for you to contact us as a possible important witness?”
“Is that why you called the sheriff here?”
“Yes. We don’t just let these things go, Stacie.”
“Okay, so I was there. All right. I was there. But I didn’t see what happened later. That’s all there is to it. I’m sorry for Clint. You probably don’t believe me, but I am.”
“You two were close for quite some time, then.”
Stacie scoffed. “Close. That’s good.”
“The volleyball game video shows you sitting right behind Clint Scott, sometimes your elbow on his shoulder, appearing to enjoy yourself. Now you’re telling me that you were already thinking then, right at that moment, that you were going to break it off with him? ”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking…like for the past ten years, thinking. Or trying to think. Look, I’m not altogether proud of what I’ve done over the years. I first…” She broke off and cleared her throat. “Look. Have you ever been addicted to something like heroin?”
“No.”
“Then you don’t understand. That’s what my relationship with Clint Scott was like, from day one. I’ve come to realize that now. When I’m away from him, I can think it through, I can say ‘never again.’ I can do all those things that therapists say I should do. But then when I’m close to him, my God, he’s like a drug to me. I can’t get enough of him.”
“Why not just marry him? You’ve said that this went on for years, Stacie. Why not be done with it and marry the guy?”
“It’s kinda pointless to speak ill of him now, don’t you think?”
“We deal in motives, Stacie. The why of it all.”
“The why. Well, the why is that, other than the sex, marrying Clint Scott would be like marrying the fancy electronic scoreboard down at the end of the gym.”
“Ah. That sort.”
“Yes. That sort.”
“So, at the game this week, you were thinking of breaking it off.”
“I was. Yes. I could see that it was going to become more and more awkward, especially as Ginger grows up. You know, Posadas is a small town, Sheriff. Todd doesn’t know, I can’t ever let him know… No doubt about it, I had to end it.”
She tried an uncomfortable laugh. “Go cold turkey. So I agreed to meet with him at school, in the office. We knew no one would be there.” She scoffed again. “I mean, it’s not exactly the first time, right? I’m sure some friendly folks have filled you in on that. But, yes, I was going to go and tell him that it was over, once and for all.”
“Did he know that was on your mind?”
“I don’t think so. Clint was Clint, you know? I’m sure he wanted a repeat performance, something to cap his victorious evening. So, yes, maybe I was a little forward, a little too friendly, at the game. I wanted to make sure that he waited at the school for me. And, yes, I suppose he thought that I had other intentions.” She pronounced the word carefully, as if afraid she might leave out a syllable. “I wanted the time to make things clear to him.”
“After the graffiti incident, after the two young men drove away, why didn’t you go inside the school right then?”
“That wouldn’t be too smart, would it? He’s just had an argument with some jerks, he’s confiscated a gun, so he’s armed…what, I’m going to go in there to announce that the party’s over? I don’t think so.”
“The party?”
“Look, it’s no secret that Clint and I…that we…look, you talked to Dana, I guess. She would have told you.”
“What would she have told me?”
A thin laugh greeted that. “You’re so much the cop, Estelle.” The use of her first name surprised the undersheriff. “I hope you’re happy with Dr. Guzman and those two perfect little kids of yours.”
“This isn’t about me, Stacie.”
The phone shifted, and Estelle heard the rustle of tissue. “Look, I’m sorry. I had no cause to say that,” Stacie said finally. “You know, Todd and I went to that concert a year or two ago that your son gave at the school. Him and the kid who played the flute? It was beautiful.”
“Thank you. Did you have reason to fear Clint Scott? Did you have reason to think that the gun he’d confiscated from the two young men somehow put you in danger?”
“Well, duh. Yes, I suppose I was a little bit afraid of him. I knew he had a quick temper, and I could see that he would be already worked up. And now with a gun? Like I said, not good timing for an ultimatum.”
“And the next day, that’s what you did. You just left, unannounced.”
“I knew that the eastbound Trailways bus stopped at the Posadas Motel once a day, and I had already planned to be on it.”
“Leaving daughter and husband. Even the dog.”
“Yes.” Her voice sounded dull. “Todd will cope. Especially if he has our daughter with him.”
“Stacie, why did you leave your daughter and the puppy in your car at the store? Why not at home? At the bank with your husband…anything but that.”
“I just thought…I don’t know what I thought, except I did not want a confrontation with Todd. I asked Dana to take me to the motel from the store. You know, it was right around noon, and sometimes Todd comes home for lunch. I didn’t want
any confrontations. I didn’t want any complications. That’s why even the dog went along. Ginger has a fit if her puppy isn’t with her. And who knows what that little turd would tear up if I left him alone in the house.”
“You’re not all that fond of him.”
“I hate that dog. Todd thinks he’s great, but he doesn’t have to deal with him day in, day out. He’s like a little, high-powered rat.”
“You weren’t surprised when Clint didn’t telephone you the next day?”
“I just thought, ‘Oh well, that’s the way it’s going to be.’ I’d catch the bus, and then Dana could just go right back and pick up Ginger. Just a couple of minutes. The store is only a block or two from Dana’s house, so it seemed easy. And I didn’t want to argue with anybody about my leaving. I didn’t want…Todd would have made a scene. With Dana taking Ginger, I’d have half a day head start.”
“What did you expect Clint Scott to do? I mean, you didn’t know what the circumstances would be later that evening, but you must have had thoughts that he would be upset with you.”
A long pause followed. “Like I told you, I had no idea what happened after I saw him with the two kids. By the time I got to the school, I was having second thoughts anyway. And even though he’s such a self-absorbed guy, he can be a charmer. I didn’t want to give him a chance to change my mind.” She laughed without much enthusiasm. “That’s the way he is. It’s like addiction, you know? You can say all the right things, but when it comes right down to it? When I’m face-to-face with him? Not so easy.”
“Self-absorbed? What’s that mean, Stacie?”
“His way or the highway sort of thing. I had come to understand that, after being with him altogether too long. I guess I’m a slow learner, Sheriff. I don’t know why. Every time I looked at Ginger, it was a reminder.”
“You and Clint had been in this affair since when?”
“What difference does that make? And affair? I hate that word. Scott called it recreation. What, since the year after I graduated. That’s how long I’ve known him. I went to college, and we saw each other now and again. And, yeah, some recreation. Then I got that job in Lubbock, and that helped. I put blinders on for those years. Came close a couple of times, ’cause there’s always plenty of guys out there looking for recreation, you know what I mean?”
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