Lalla Bains 02 - A Dead Red Heart (5 page)

"Bank robbery? How's a decorated Marine sniper end up robbing a bank?"

"After he was discharged from the Marines, he got involved with a bunch of peace-niks. Called themselves the New Army of Freedom, and thought robbing a bank would be a good way to make a statement to corporate America."

"Then he got into drugs after prison?"

Caleb's lips flattened out to a grim line. "I never saw him loaded. He was on meds for his PTSD, that's all."

"But isn't that why he was living on the street? I heard—"

"You heard wrong. He wasn't into that shit."

I was looking for a lead, anything that said last night's messenger had a rap sheet that would lead to his arrest, but all I'd managed to do was poke at Caleb's sacred belief that a decorated Marine would be above hanging around in back alleys and getting stabbed for a zip-lock bag of dope.

He must've read the confusion in my face, because his voice softened. "Lalla, any drugs in his system will be determined when the autopsy is complete. I have something else to tell you, so will you sit still for a minute and listen?"

I nodded, unwilling to antagonize him any further.

"We finally got Mr. Kim's daughter to agree to another interview. She was reluctant to do so, but when pressed she agreed to sit in and interpret for him.

"So what was the result?"

"Mr. Kim says he saw someone at the end of the alley."

"There. That's good, isn't it?"

"Sure. I told you that DOA note may not have had anything to do with the killing. Didn't you fire a pilot last year for doing drugs? He might be pissed enough at you or your dad to leave a threatening note."

"I'd like to think it was totally unrelated, really I would." I could hear the eerie echo of Mr. Kim telling me to stay away. If Mr. Kim saw someone at the end of the alley, then why didn't the killer leave Mr. Kim a threatening note? "Who then? Some other homeless guy? A drug dealer? Can't they pick up all these guys and get one to confess?"

"It's complicated."

"What's so complicated?" I could feel my voice going up an octave. If some druggie stabbed him for his stash, then why was it complicated? "Don't you have any suspects yet?"

"Working on it," he said, the clipped reply indicating that he was done telling me anything more.

My vague feeling of unease went into hyper-drive. "Then why do I need to go for another interview?"

"It's just a simple interview."

We pulled into a parking space in front of the Modesto police station and Caleb leaned over, gently kissed me on the lips, and seeing that I was calm once again, reached over to unfasten my seat belt, brushing my forehead with his lips in passing.

"This won't take but a few minutes," he said, herding me toward the entrance. "I already told you, it's an interview, not an interrogation."

"I never thought I'd care what Detective Rodney thought of me, but does this mean he's taking last night's threat seriously?"

"Yes. I made sure he understands that he will take it seriously because I got Chief Aguilar to sign me onto this case."

Chapter six:

"Please don't tell me this is going to be with Detective Rodney, again." I burped. My stomach was showing its temper at losing out on Leon's chocolate pie. "Sorry," I said, "nothing to eat since last night."

He dug a mint out of his pocket and held it out to me. "He's been bumped upstairs. You're getting a rookie today. She'll write it up, and then we'll go get some breakfast."

"She? They got a new girl in the department? Good. I'm always glad to see more women on the force."

"Just don't call Deputy Pippa Roulette a 'girl' and you'll be fine," he said, ushering me through the double doors and up the back stairs to the open office full of desks.

I nodded, thinking Caleb was preparing me for some kind of hefty NOW radical with a ready-made chip on her shoulder.

Inside the main office, a desk had been shoved to one side and away from the cacophony of police work. Unfortunately, I could barely hear Caleb introduce us for the buzz saw of a migraine kicking at my head.

"Pippa Roulette, this is Lalla Bains." He gave me a little push in her direction and then stepped back. "I'll leave you in Pippa's very capable hands. I'll be downstairs when you finish." He didn't kiss me, just left me standing there with my mouth slightly open and the insects in my head chirping up a riot.

Pippa Roulette's sultry green bedroom eyes tilted warmly into my own, which meant that she was eye-level with me at almost six feet in her police issued brogues.

She had long, curling, red hair held back at the nape of her long, white, young neck.

I gulped and stuck out my hand. "Hi," I said, shaking the long, slim, young hand. And to think, last year I was all mopey about a simple fortieth birthday. Caleb and I will be forty-one this month—August. I resigned myself to make the best of this and took the proffered chair by her desk.

Her smile was sparkling white smile as she sat down across from me. "I'm so glad to meet you. Sorry about the circumstances though."

God. She was what—twenty-five?

"I'm twenty-nine," she said, and filled me in on the rest of the questions rolling around in my head. "I was in my third year of college before I got off the fence and changed my major from law to law enforcement. Kinda hard to start over, but I'm glad I did it. I really can't see myself in a law office, can you?"

Maybe as a centerfold—spread across a desk.

She grinned.

Good grief, this was spooky. The girl seemed to know what I was thinking!

"So in spite of my advanced old age, this is my first real job."

"Uh-huh." I was still trying to work my mouth around forty-one without stuttering.

So why did Caleb set me in front of this gorgeous redhead with creamy white skin and no crows-feet? The uniform said police department, not sheriff's department; at least she didn't work every day with Caleb. Or did she?

She cocked her head to the side, giving me a look that said she wasn't buying into any melodrama with jealous girlfriends. "Can I get you some water or something?"

I made a twirling motion at my head. Let her read that.

She nodded, got up and every man in the room stopped what he was doing to watch the ordinary brown of her city-issued uniform sway all the way to the water cooler. I never had hips like that, and a waist that small appeared only after a starvation diet decreed by the fashion industry, but then my ass would disappear, so no joy in that department, either.

When she came back, they all ducked their heads and went back to what they were doing. She leaned over the desk, and handing me the cup of water, said, "You'd think they'd never seen a woman before."

"Well, you're not the average hair-on-the-upper-lip deputy, either."

She gave the comment a throaty chuckle.

I popped a headache pill and swallowed it down with the water.

"Thanks," I said. "I was beginning to get a migraine."

"Caleb said you get them. Do you want to go lie down for a half-hour in our break room? I could do some other stuff while you rest."

Caleb told her? What else did he tell her? When did he have time to talk to her? Did they go out for drinks after work? This was going to make me crazy in no time, so I quit before it got out of hand.

"No, no. This will work in another minute, thanks." Besides, her desktop was overflowing with paperwork, and if I put a glitch into her tight schedule, I suspected I would only have to come back again tomorrow.

"So, do you have a form I can fill out? Or do you wing it?"

"Let's go somewhere more private to talk."

Pippa led me into an interview room, closed the door, put the folder she'd brought with her on the table, and then tweaked the handle on the blinds closed.

"All right, I've read the file, and I know this has been terribly traumatic for you, Lalla. I'd like to help if you'll let me."

"How?" I could hear my voice go up into that higher register I get into when stress and a pounding headache were threatening to ruin the party. "I can't even remember his last words to me."

"That's why Caleb asked me to see you today. I'd like to try a little simple hypnosis, if you don't mind."

"If you promise me I won't go out of here doing the chicken dance, you can try anything you like, not that it will work—I can't be hypnotized."

"Maybe not, but it's also a great relaxing technique and you look like you could use something to help with the stress. So let's get started, shall we? Take a deep breath. That's good. Deep breathing gets the oxygen into the brain, relaxes you. Now, close your eyes and we'll both take a minute to quiet our minds. That's good, take another deep breath, relax your mind, your shoulders, your arms, your hands. We have all the time in the world, so go ahead and let it all go. That's right, take another deep breath and relax, Lalla, now go deeper, that's good, just relax and go deeper, deeper...."

Pippa was talking to me. "Lalla? Would you like another drink of water?"

I blinked and yawned. "No, thanks. Sorry, but I did warn you. Never works."

"It's not a problem. We talked a bit about your headaches, and I gave you a suggestion that might work."

"You did?"

She walked me through the bullpen and to the open elevator doors, then punched the down button, handed me a card and said, "This is for later, in case you remember anything." She stood back, and then reached out and stopped the doors from closing. "Your guy's a rock you know, but he's all yours, Lalla Bains. I wish—I wish I had something like that in my life again."

I nodded, and as the elevator descended, I noticed the jittery nerves I'd come in with were gone. By the time I stepped out into the lobby I was feeling downright cheerful if somewhat lightheaded. The lightheaded feeling, I think, was due to the breakfast I'd missed.

Caleb got up and led me to a chair.

I smiled at him. "That was fun, but since I can't be hypnotized, I have to ask, is she some kind of psychic?"

"I don't know about the psychic part, but she's got a pretty good grasp on profiling."

"You told her about my migraines?"

"Did it help?"

"I don't think it worked, but I do feel somewhat—hey, my headache's gone!"

"They say that people who are prone to migraines are better subjects for hypnosis. Your headache was just an added bonus."

"And to think I was looking forward to an afternoon of hot-lights and bamboo shoots under the fingernails."

He stood up. "Pippa tell you to call later, in case you remember something?"

He was standing in front of me, belt buckle about eye level, hands on hips, talking. My brain immediately went to zippers, bed, and hot sex.

"Uh-huh." I realize not everybody's mind naturally goes in that direction, but after a long diet of no dating, we'd found each other, and I didn't want to waste another minute. It's funny, I don't remember being this way at thirty.

Caleb's mouth twitched. "I asked if you wanted to get some lunch."

I tore my eyes away from belt-buckle-zipper-bed-hot-sex, and doing my best to match Pippa's husky voice, said, I'm starved."

I awoke to sun filtering through the blinds and the smell of coffee. Coffee? I rolled over and sat up, reaching for the cup of coffee in Caleb's hand. I took a sip of the hot brew then glanced at the bedside clock and squealed. "You shouldn't have let me sleep so long!" I shoved the cup at him, and still naked, leaped out of bed.

"Sweetheart, you needed the rest," he called as I charged past him for the shower.

"I should be at work!"

He came into the bathroom to watch as I stepped under the hot water. "I have news for you—you've been out since yesterday afternoon. Your dad's got your work covered, so let's eat breakfast."

"Really? That hypnotism must've worked after all." I put my head under the shower, and shut the glass shower door on him. As he was leaving, I said, "Mentioning Pippa, did she tell you I said anything useful?"