JB positioned himself in the corner, scribbling on a notepad. Probably notating his Detective of the Year victory speech.
“Why am I in here?” Pedro spit out the words, twisting his mouth, like he tasted something sour. “I already told you. I did it. I would’ve killed those Oaktown cabróns too, but I didn’t have a clear shot and I ran out of ammo. What more do you want to know?”
“The whole story. From beginning to end. Starting with who put you up to it.”
“Nobody.”
“Bullshit.” Every entry on Pedro’s rap sheet had a crime partner. Like his brother-in-law, he’d grown up in Santa Barbara too. Spent his teen years boosting cars and volleying in and out of juvie. “No way you pulled that off by yourself without Uncle Elvis holding your hand.”
“He’s not my uncle.”
“Might as well be. Because from where I’m sitting, you’re just a kid. Have you even started shaving yet?”
Pedro’s fists clenched. “¡Chinga tú madre!”
JB’s pen stopped moving. He barely glanced up. “Easy there, pendejo. Save the insults for your girlfriend.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“You will tonight.” JB grinned. “You’ve got a one-way ticket to big-boy jail, my friend.”
Fuming, Pedro ground his teeth. “The only thing I did for Elvis was mail a few letters to that pendejo, Fox. Elvis tried to warn him that he would have to pay for what he’d done. He should’ve done his job right in the first place. I wanted to put in work for my brother-in-law, to prove I’m not some chump, but Elvis had no clue about what I had planned. I only told him after the fact. After it went down.”
Will didn’t buy it for one second. “So, how did it go down exactly?”
Pedro shrugged like he couldn’t be bothered, and Will fought the recurring urge to slam his suspect’s head against the table. “You really want the gory details?”
Though he could think of nothing he wanted less, Will nodded.
“First, I shot that asshole in the head. Then, I went back to the beach house and did the wife and kids. Laid down some gasoline and watched the place go up in smoke. End of story.”
“The kids too, huh? You shot them all?”
“Except the one who got away.”
“Did the kid see you?”
“How the hell would I know what she saw?”
With a quick, knowing glance, Will and JB spoke simultaneously. “She?”
“She. He. Whatever. It was dark, and I was busy. I couldn’t tell.”
“What were you wearing?”
“Wearing?” Another castoff shrug from Pedro. “I don’t remember. I tossed it all, though. Right into a dumpster outside the supermarket the next day. It’s probably in the landfill by now.”
“And after you left the beach house?” Will asked. “Where did you go?”
“I met up with Elvis and my sister in the parking lot. Gabriella drove us home. I slept like a baby.”
“And the gun?”
“Watched it sink to the bottom of the Earl River with the fishes.”
Will sat back and shook his head at JB. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Once the door had shut behind them, Will let out a heavy sigh. He leaned against the wall, suddenly exhausted. The last few days catching up with him all at once, heavy on his shoulders. “I hate to put a damper on your party, but Pedro is full of shit.”
“What makes you say that?”
Will smacked his palm against his own forehead. “Seriously? Were you even paying attention? The guy doesn’t know anything about the crimes that wasn’t in the Gazette a few days ago. He told the vaguest account of a quadruple homicide I’ve ever heard. And we found bottles of lighter fluid at the crime scene. Not gasoline. Besides, you saw it for yourself. He didn’t even realize Thomas was a boy. The paper left that part out, you know.”
“He confessed. What kind of moron confesses to one murder, much less four of them?”
“A moron who wants to impress his brother-in-law, a shot caller for Los Diabolitos. Just like this afternoon. I guarantee you he fired every shot from that AR into a redwood trunk. He’s a wannabe gangster desperate for Bastidas’s approval.”
“If that’s true, why didn’t Bastidas tell you and Jessie that Pedro was with them at the fireworks show that night at the beach? It sounds to me like he’s covering for the kid.”
Will pondered JB’s question before the answer came to him. Once, as a boy, he’d lied to Ben. Told his older brother he’d beaten up the meanest bully at Bernal Heights Junior High School just to feel the sting of Ben’s high five. He understood Pedro even if he didn’t want to. “You’re right. Bastidas is covering for Pedro. Because Pedro lied to him too.”
While JB tried to find a way to prove himself right, Will’s phone buzzed. Olivia, he mouthed to JB, turning away when his asinine partner puckered his lips.
“Hey, what’s up?”
He didn’t like the hitch he heard in her breath, even above the background noise. “You have to get down here. To the Hickory Pit. Thomas saw the killer inside.”
“Bastidas’s brother-in-law, Pedro, just confessed.”
“What?” She sounded as confused as he felt. Like a blind man stumbling in the dark. “That’s not possible. Deck, I saw…”
“You saw…”
She said it fast. So fast he thought he’d misunderstood her.
“Who?”
“Graham. Graham’s at the bar. In Thomas’s eyeline. I’m looking right at him.”
Will took off, motioning for JB to follow. “Don’t go anywhere. We’ll be there as soon as we can.”
Thirty-Five
Olivia left Wade sitting in the booth and made her way back toward the door. The country singer had started another set, crooning about beer and broken hearts while Graham and his drunken buddies mooned over her. But at least he’d been too busy to notice Olivia. So had Em, apparently. Arms wrapped around Nick’s neck, they swayed together on the dance floor to the beat of the music.
As she pocketed her cell, Ranger Rob tumbled from her pocket and skittered across the hardwood. Kicked by a boot, the toy soldier went flying, just as she’d reached for it. She maneuvered through the mob, crouching to retrieve Thomas’s prized possession. The moment she stood up, Ranger Rob in hand, the fire alarm began to blare.
The singing trailed off, stopped. Bar patrons set down their drinks. The folks who’d been lucky enough to score a booth sat still, their dinners abandoned. Raucous laughter turned to nervous chatter. No one seemed sure what to do. The alarm wailed on, insistent.
Olivia covered her ears, the urgent sound like a hammer to her brain.
Jane, the bartender, boosted herself onto the countertop, whistling to get the crowd’s attention. “Everybody out. Now.”
For a split second, an eerie quiet blanketed the Hickory Pit. Then, the place erupted into chaos. Everyone headed for the same double doors, the memory of the Ocean’s Song fire fresh in their minds.
Olivia, too, hurried for the exit, only to be swept sideways by the pulsing crowd that had taken on a life of its own. She glanced over her shoulder, searching for Wade or for Emily. But they’d been subsumed by the sweaty mass of people clamoring for the door, hands sticky with barbecue sauce and beer on their breath. Finally, she spotted a slice of sky, sucked in a bit of fresh air.
The Hickory Pit spat her out onto the sidewalk, stumbling. When she found her balance, she searched the crowded parking lot for Nora and Thomas. Came up empty.
“Liv? What are you doing here?”
Emily had no right to sound so indignant. Not when she was the one who’d been sneaking around and withholding information. “I could ask the same of you.”
“I’m just meeting a friend.” Behind her, Nick flushed. “This is—”
“Nicholas Spadoni. Aka Nick Spade. Yeah, I know him. We went to high school together.”
Raising a hand to wave at her, Nick shuffled from one foot to the other a
s the crowd milled about around him. Inside, the fire alarm still blared its warning.
“You know my sister?” Emily looked mortified.
“I was going to tell you.”
“So, you’re a private investigator now?” Olivia asked, piling it on. “I’m confused. Is my sister your date or your client?”
Em groaned, pulling Nick by the arm. “You don’t have to answer that. Let’s go. We’ll find another spot to talk.”
But Nick had rooted himself to the pavement. Olivia wondered if he remembered their senior year, when she and her friends had embarrassed him royally on a regular basis, calling him Poodle Head as he flounced down the hallway. It wasn’t one of her finer moments. “It’s none of your business, Olivia.”
So, that was a yes, then. Memories of humiliation fully intact.
“My sister is my business. She’s a little young for you, don’t you think?”
Emily shot her a look, clearly contemplating the best methods to murder her annoying big sister. “You’re just mad because you have no love life,” she hissed. “Why don’t you just grow up and kiss him already?”
“Who?” Although she could already guess, judging by the smug look on Em’s face, that Deck was standing behind her. She turned around slowly, feeling an uncomfortable heat creep up her neck.
Sure enough, Deck’s brown eyes sized her up. His brow creased in confusion as he gestured to the restless mob. “What the hell is going on?”
The corner of JB’s mouth turned up in amusement. “I think Doctor Rockwell’s sister just dared her to kiss you.”
While Olivia wondered if death by mortification was a legitimate possibility, Will chivalrously ignored his loud-mouthed partner. “Why is half of Fog Harbor standing outside the Hickory Pit? And where are Thomas and his aunt?”
“Fire alarm.” At the edge of the crowd, Olivia suddenly spotted Nora’s auburn hair. She tried to signal to her, but Nora seemed distracted, frantic even, her eyes pinballing across the expanse of the parking lot. It didn’t take long for Olivia to realize why.
“Where is Thomas?” She repeated Deck’s words, each one leveling the world like a small earthquake.
“I lost him.” Nora sounded on the verge of a breakdown, her voice fragile as a flower petal. Looked it, too. Her hand, shaking as she pointed to the empty spot next to her. “He was right here. And I lost him.”
“What happened?” Olivia scanned the parking lot for Thomas.
“He must’ve gotten scared again when the fire alarm sounded. For a split second he let go of my hand and took off running toward the field. But I got jostled by the crowd and couldn’t see him anymore. Then, I panicked. He’s done this before, but—”
“Before?” Olivia asked.
“With Hannah and Peter.” Nora hung her head. “Whenever he’d get anxious or upset, he’d run and hide from them. Once, it took her two hours to find him. He’d crawled into the dryer.”
“I’m sure he hasn’t gone far.” Deck guided Nora to his car, helped her into the passenger seat. “Olivia, can you stay with her?”
Olivia nodded, comforting Nora with a pat to the shoulder, though she had no intention of standing by while Thomas was out there alone and frightened.
“First Lily and Dylan, and now Thomas too.” Nora finally broke, grabbing onto Olivia like a life raft in stormy waters. “I loved those kids as if they were my own.”
While Olivia watched over Nora’s trembling shoulder, Deck made his way to the front entrance of the Pit, put two fingers in his mouth and whistled once, twice, three times, bringing the din to a halt. “Anybody seen a little boy out here, four years old, with red hair?”
A few nervous whispers and worried head shakes. Fingers pointing in the direction of the forest. The group of off-duty cops instantly sobered, a couple of them joining Deck by the door. Wade, too, had appeared there, fitting right in with his buzz cut and his burly arms. His look of intense concentration.
Graham stepped forward from the edge of the crowd, and Olivia didn’t breathe until he spoke. “I saw him.”
Thirty-Six
Will watched over Graham’s shoulder while volunteers from the crowd—off-duty cops and civilians alike—began to search for Thomas. Minutes ago, the fire department had cleared the call. False alarm.
Feeling sick inside, Will returned his focus to his least favorite suspect. “So, tell me again exactly when you saw Thomas?”
“Like I already said, I was sitting at the bar drinking, and I noticed him with his aunt in the corner. Is that a crime?” With a seething glare, Graham whipped his badge from his back pocket and looked at it in astonishment. “Oh, wait. I am a cop. And no, it’s not a crime.”
Will breathed through it, holding himself together. “Did Thomas see you?”
“How the hell would I know?”
“He told Olivia he’d spotted the perpetrator inside the Pit. The bad man, the policeman who killed his family. That’s why I hightailed it down here. Olivia said he had a clear view of you from the booth.”
Will noticed a single bead of sweat forming on Graham’s hairline. It fattened until it rolled down his temple.
“Me and twenty other cops. Remember, the kid is four years old. He’s barely out of diapers. Besides, didn’t Bastidas’s brother-in-law already confess?”
“Yeah, he did. But you’re sweating. You never sweat.”
Graham swallowed, his Adam’s apple sticking for a moment, bulging. Then he wiped his brow. “Newsflash. It’s July, man. It’s freaking hot out here.”
Will consulted his cell phone. “Actually, it’s a very pleasant seventy degrees today.”
“Am I free to leave, Detective? Because last I heard there’s a missing kid, and I don’t think your witch hunt is helping anybody find him.”
Will glanced up, watching the first group of volunteers cross the road into the grassy field across from the Pit. “Fine. Just don’t go too far. When Thomas shows up, I want him to take a good long look at you.”
After dismissing Graham, Will found Nora in the parking lot, staring ahead blankly with Olivia and JB stanchioned beside her. The slight tremble of her lower lip spoke for her, as her weary eyes searched down the lonely stretch of road adjacent to the restaurant.
“He just wandered off,” Will assured her. “There are plenty of places out here for kids to hide. We’ll keep looking.”
“The police will find him,” Olivia said, offering her Thomas’s Ranger Rob. “And he’ll be missing his lucky soldier.”
It disappeared into Nora’s palm before she spoke. “What if someone saw him run away and snatched him up?”
JB beat Will to the answer. “We don’t know that, ma’am. In fact, there’s no reason to think that at all.”
Olivia flashed Will a pointed look that communicated her vehement disagreement. And she wasn’t wrong. Even if the supposed killer was in jail, Thomas had vanished just minutes after he’d ID’d the bad man inside the Hickory Pit.
Will lifted his shoulders in a small, sad shrug. “My partner’s right. We arrested someone this afternoon. He confessed to the murders.”
“What?”
“But we’re verifying his story. Sometimes people confess to things they didn’t do.”
Nora looked to Olivia. For solace or for explanation, he couldn’t tell. “It’s true,” Olivia said. “False confessions are not uncommon in high-profile crimes like this. I believe Thomas saw someone inside the restaurant. Someone critical to solving this case. Is there anything else you can tell us that might help us find him?”
A single tear escaped from the corner of Nora’s eye down her cheek, and she wiped it away. “There is one thing I remember.”
Olivia nodded her encouragement, while Will joined JB in closing ranks around Nora. He didn’t want to miss a word. “Right before Thomas screamed and ran out, a couple of those officers had started an arm-wrestling match at the bar. They were hooting and hollering, drawing attention to themselves. I think Thomas might have been
watching them.”
Will could hardly believe what he’d heard. “Arm-wrestling?”
“Arm-wrestling,” Nora repeated. “Is that important?”
“It might be.”
JB’s eyes scanned the parking lot, where a few of the off-duty officers had gathered.
“Do you see the men who were involved?” JB asked.
Taking a few quiet breaths, Nora looked around, zeroing in on the group. On a pair of broad shoulders and perfectly sculpted hair. When the man held up a hand to wave at Olivia, misunderstanding, Will could barely contain himself.
“Him,” Nora said. “He was one of them.”
Thirty-Seven
“No way in hell.” Deck clenched his stubbled jaw like Olivia had just offered herself up as a ritual sacrifice. “Not after the way he treated you yesterday. He scared you.”
Though she couldn’t argue with that last part, Olivia groaned, side-eyeing JB. She’d need his help to convince Deck she could get Graham to fess up whatever secrets he’d been keeping.
“I think Doctor Rockwell has a point. Bauer loathes the both of us. She’ll certainly get further than we will, City Boy.”
“You can’t be serious.” Will directed his words at his partner, but Olivia felt every single one of them like a barb to the skin. “You want a civilian to interrogate a possible murder suspect who just happens to be a cop himself? Are you sure those blood pressure pills aren’t messing with your head?”
“She is a psychologist. Talking is practically in the job description.”
Sensing a turn of the tide, Olivia heaped on her reassurances. “It’s not an interrogation, Deck. Just a conversation. For whatever reason, Graham trusts me. He came to me for help last night. Besides, you and JB will be close by if anything goes wrong.”
One Child Alive: An absolutely gripping crime thriller packed with nail-biting suspense (Rockwell and Decker Book 3) Page 15
