A Killing in the Valley (31 page)

“You know the girls Steven’s dated here, don’t you?” she asked him.

“Most of them,” he answered cautiously.

“Was one of them married? Or in a relationship that Steven and she would need to protect?”

Tyler’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?”

Kate nodded. “One of his former girlfriends thought it was a possibility.” An idea suddenly came to her. “Could this woman have known you two were going to be in Santa Barbara, and went there to meet him?”

“I don’t…” he stammered.

“This is important, damn it!” Kate said fiercely. She felt like she was on to something. Her detective’s gut. “If there is a woman out there Steven’s protecting, Tyler, we have to know. This is no time for chivalry. Steven’s life is at stake. I mean that.”

He groaned. “There isn’t,” he told her. “At least, I don’t know if there is. Which I think I would, we’re pretty tight.” He looked at her sadly. “I’m sorry.”

Kate fell back against her chair. This was a dead end. She had hoped for a breakthrough, but it wasn’t going to happen. She tried to read Tyler’s body language. He seemed to be telling the truth. He wasn’t covering for Steven. Too damn bad.

She picked up the pad and flipped through the pages. “The gun that Steven found in the house. That killed Maria Estrada. Steven says he picked it up that night and put it back in the gun case. Did you see him pick up that gun and put it away?
Actually
see him?”

Tyler looked away. “It was dark in the house. We were only inside for a few minutes. I couldn’t see much. Steven knew his way around, so it would have been easy for him to do it.”

“But you didn’t actually see him pick the gun up and put it back in the gun case,” she pressed.

A slow head-shake. “No.”

A jury would hear that and believe that Steven had lied. Luke would have to work awfully hard to overcome that one.

She looked at the pad again. “The gate.” This was the most important piece of the puzzle. “Initially, you told the police you thought it had been locked when you went to Santa Barbara.”

He nodded.

“But then you remembered it hadn’t been. Correct?”

Another nod.

“Because Steven insisted he had left it open.”

“Yes.”

“So you did leave it open, like Steven said.”

“Yes,” he answered slowly.

“You’re sure of that.”

He exhaled deeply. “I would say…yes.”

You aren’t sure of that at all, she thought, looking at him. He was miserable. All he wanted to do was protect his friend.

“You’re going to be on the stand at Steven’s trial, Tyler,” she said. “You’re going to be under oath. You’re going to swear to tell the truth. Which you must do,” she reminded him sternly.

“I know that.”

“So tell me now. I’m the D.A., and I’m asking you that question. Do you swear the gate was open when you left that morning?”

The way Tyler shook his head it looked like it weighed a hundred pounds. “No. I can’t swear that.”

Kate tossed the pad onto the table. “Okay, Tyler,” she said. “I’m not the D.A., and you’re not under oath now. Tell me the truth, as best you can remember it. Was the gate open or locked?”

He looked at her.

“As best
you
can remember it,” she repeated. “Not how Steven told you it was.”

Tyler stared at the floor. “I thought it was locked. But I can’t swear to it, either way.”

You won’t need to, Kate thought darkly as she walked back through the campus. Your ambivalence will be more than enough for the prosecution. And the jury.

The grounds were almost empty now. She could hear sixty thousand people in full roar as she passed by the stadium. Was a miracle happening in there, she wondered? There certainly weren’t any happening for her.

Two buffed-out men were sitting in the hotel lobby as Kate entered. They were dressed in identical dark-blue sweatpants, muscle-style T-shirts with a small Tucson FD logo on the left nipple, and black Air Jordans. Their hair was neatly cut, not quite military-short. One sported a trim mustache. They got up and approached Kate.

“Mrs. Blanchard?” the mustached one inquired politely.

She winced. I must really be showing my age these days, she thought. Maybe I need a new hair color. Or a better workout regimen. Or a total makeover.

“Yes, I’m Kate Blanchard,” she said, slightly wary.

“Todd Levine,” the man said, extending his hand. “This is Barry Harper. We’re the paramedics Steven McCoy worked under this summer. Our supervisor said you wanted to talk to us about Steven.”

That explained the look. Cops and firemen (and apparently paramedics, who were associated with firemen) still wore mustaches.

“Thanks for coming,” she told them. “I appreciate it.”

Except for the three of them and an inattentive clerk behind the check-in counter, the lobby was empty. Everyone’s at the game, she assumed. She noticed they both had beepers on their belts, so they were probably on call.

“I know you’re busy. This won’t take long,” she promised.

They sat on couches in a quiet corner. The paramedics gave her their names, addresses, and telephone numbers, which she jotted down in her notepad. “Okay,” she said, sitting back. Her notepad was balanced on a knee. “What can you tell me about Steven that I might not know and that would help his defense? I assume you have a positive attitude toward him,” she added, smiling.

“Absolutely,” said Levine, the one with the mustache. “He’s tops in our book.” He looked at Harper, who nodded in agreement.

“Fill me in,” she said to them. “Describe his duties on the job. What kind of training he had. His interactions with people.” She looked at her list of questions. “Any personal relationships he had with coworkers or others that you know about.”

According to Levine and Harper, Steven McCoy was a gold-plated Boy Scout. A red-blooded, fun-loving guy, to be sure, but a damn good man, a rock-solid friend you’d want covering your back in a bar fight, or more importantly, someone you wanted next to you in their line of work, where instant decisions about life and death could literally spring up in your face, often in hostile and dicey surroundings.

“He’s fearless,” Levine said in admiration. He had been Steven’s primary trainer, so he knew him better, particularly under pressure. “He’d charge into locations I wouldn’t set foot in without an armed cop escorting me. Steven wouldn’t hesitate—somebody was hurt, needed help, off he went.”

“He’s smart, that’s a big part of why he’s good,” Harper chimed in. “He knows his procedures cold. Picked everything up immediately, never had to be shown twice. He’s going to be a hell of an M.D. someday. I hope he goes into emergency room medicine, that’s his calling. High octane, lots of pressure.”

Levine had a worried look on his face. “Will this arrest prevent Steven from going to med school?” he asked Kate.

The question took her aback. They obviously didn’t know, or understand, the seriousness of Steven’s predicament. “Well, if he’s convicted, he won’t be going anywhere for the rest of his life,” she said.

“But he won’t be, will he?” Levine asked in disbelief. “You can’t believe he’s guilty…can you?”

“It doesn’t matter what I believe. I’m not going to be sitting on the jury.”

“Jesus!” Harper ejaculated. “How can this be? Is there any solid evidence against him, or is it mob hysteria?”

Kate looked at him quizzically. “Why would you think there’s hysteria about this?”

Harper looked at Levine, who shook his head—in anger or resignation, Kate couldn’t tell. “Never mind,” he told her. “It won’t matter.”

She started to ask why it wouldn’t matter, or what the
it
was he was referring to, but she decided to hold her fire. She could read body language well enough to know they wouldn’t tell her, if there actually was anything to tell.

They recounted some of Steven’s more courageous and colorful episodes from the summer. He had been a true stalwart, and a good friend. They were heartsick over this quagmire he had fallen into. And they were sure he was innocent.

Kate closed her notebook. “Thank you for your time, guys,” she said. “You’ve been very helpful. We may want you to testify as character witnesses, or write letters to the court on Steven’s behalf.”

They assured her they would be happy to do either, or both.

As she was about to say goodbye she remembered the last item on her list. “Before you go. One more question. Was Steven seeing anyone in particular that you knew about? A special girlfriend, or…” She hesitated. She didn’t want to start a rumor that could spread and become unmanageable and ugly. But not putting everything on the table wasn’t an option anymore.

“Or?” Levine prompted.

“Could Steven have been in a relationship he had to keep secret?”

“A secret relationship?” Levine repeated.

“One that could put the other person in a compromising position. Or Steven,” she added. “Like with a married woman.”

The two men exchanged what looked like significant glances.

“What did Steven say when you put that question to him?” Levine asked her.

“I haven’t.”

“You should,” Levine said. “Because it’s not our place to answer that. That’s Steven’s call. His alone.”

It was after six by the time Kate’s plane landed in Santa Barbara. She drove straight to Luke’s office.

“How did it go?” he asked, once she was settled in with a cold Bohemia.

“Steven McCoy is a prince. He’s trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, brave, clean, and reverent. Did I leave anything out?”

“I don’t know,” he answered, laughing. “I was never in the scouts. Maybe thrifty?”

“That didn’t come up.” She took a hit off her beer. Man, she needed that.

“You didn’t find any hidden bombs that could blow up in our face?”

She shook her head. “Actually, there were a couple.”

He hadn’t expected that answer. “What are they?”

“For openers, a part of what Tyler Woodruff is going to testify to.”

“The gate?”

She nodded. “His best recollection is that it was locked when they left that morning.”

“That’s his final answer? He’s going to testify to that?”

“He won’t testify either way. But when Alex or Elise ask him which he thought it was, he’s going to say he thought it was locked.”

“But it could have been open. That’s what’s in his deposition.”

“He’s going to say locked,” she rebutted stubbornly.

“I heat you,” he said in an aggravated tone of voice. “You don’t have to sound so goddamned gleeful about it.”

“Just stating the facts, counselor.”

That Tyler would testify that way wasn’t a surprise, but it was a disappointment. Luke had hoped he would have changed his memory, but he hadn’t, so they would live with it. He would have to figure a way to dilute it, without discrediting Tyler, who was firmly on Steven’s side. “Okay, anything else?”

She told him about her meeting with the paramedics, and their reluctance to talk about Steven’s love life, which she had intuited they knew something about.

“A secret woman?” he asked, following up her supposition. “Even if there was one, I don’t know how we’d work it into our scenario.”

“Unless she was in Santa Barbara and they got together secretly.”

“You’ve brought that up before, but it doesn’t make sense. The boys were planning on spending the day together. They only split up because Tyler’s girlfriend showed up unexpectedly. Steven had no idea that was going to happen.”

“I know,” she said reluctantly.

“Then what is it? The other part of what you found out.”

“This is going to sound judgmental, but it really isn’t.” She paused. “One of the paramedics was gay. He wasn’t prancing around or anything, but he was definitely gay. The other one might have been, too. I don’t know. But I’m sure about the one.”

Luke hadn’t seen that bombshell coming at all. “Are you telling me Steven McCoy is gay?”

“Why couldn’t he be? It’s never come up, but we need to consider that possibility.”

Luke was dubious. “He’s supposed to be such a heat-seeking missile toward women,” he said.

“He’s hot, for sure,” Kate answered. “My daughter breaks out in a sweat when she’s around him. Other women do, too. Check out how Cindy Rebeck looks at him, the next time they’re in the same place. She can hardly keep her tongue in her mouth.”

“You just contradicted yourself,” he pointed out.

“Not at all. How many women fell all over themselves over Greg Louganis or Rock Hudson?”

“Rock Hudson was gay?” Luke exclaimed in shock. “Are none of my childhood heroes sacred?”

She ignored his sarcasm. “Steven could be one of those people who are sexually comfortable with both men and women.” She thought back to her meeting at the hotel. “I wouldn’t be shocked to find out that this particular paramedic and Steven were lovers this summer.”

Luke exhaled heavily. “What a mind fuck that would be.”

“I know.” She paused. “Are you going to ask him?”

Her question shook him off-stride, which rarely happened. “Ask Steven McCoy if he’s homosexual, or bisexual?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know,” he answered cautiously. “That could be a minefield. And I’m not sure it matters.”

“But it could,” she argued strongly. “What if the reason Steven has been vague about where he was that afternoon is because he was in a sexual relationship with a man?”

The accusation—or supposition, or possibility—hung heavy between them.

“You know what I don’t understand?” she continued. “If Steven is gay, or bisexual, why wouldn’t he admit it, especially if it could give him an alibi, which he desperately needs. There’s not that much stigma about being gay anymore.”

Luke shook his head in rebuttal. “There isn’t? Tell that to the Neanderthals who are pushing for a constitutional amendment against same-sex marriage.”

“That’s the religious right. I’m talking about normal people.”

Kate had strong feelings about this issue. She’d had a strict fundamentalist Church of God upbringing, which from early childhood had never appealed to her. Too narrow, too judgmental, too bleak. By the time she was thirteen she had quit going to church, and she had never looked back. Her daughters had been raised to be ethical and moral people. That was good enough for her. They didn’t need to go to church to know right from wrong.