R.P. Dahlke - Dead Red 04 - A Dead Red Alibi (13 page)

I helped Pearlie into the truck and got in after her.

She scooted over next to the deputy and smiled politely. “Thanks, Deputy,” she said. “This is awfully nice of you, considering it’s your day off and all.”

He blushed furiously and put the truck in gear.

.

Chapter Twenty-one:

Part-time tow truck operator, Deputy Dumb-Ass stood on the bluff, glaring below us as if willing the Jeep to climb uphill on its own.

“So how do you
plan to do it?” I asked, searching for confidence in his ability to do the job.

He rubbed a han
d over his face stubble. “I guess it can be done.”

Hoping to give him an incentive before Caleb and my dad arrived
and saw the damage, I said, “It is a bit unusual. I suppose getting it up the hill will cost extra.”

His deeply set eyes brightened at the word,
extra
. “Yeah, well, a regular tow would cost you two-hundred, but this is going to take a lot more time, not to mention planning, so you can figure upwards of four hundred.”

“Dollars?” Pearlie gasped. “Are you planning on carrying it on your back?”

The deputy growled and left to ready the cable.

“Don’t antagonize him, Pearlie, he’s our only chance.”

She shrugged and grinned. “You’re the one who called him Deputy Dumb-Ass. Anyway, here comes the cavalry.”

Caleb, looking very uncomfortable in the
passenger seat of the Bugatti leaped out before it came to a complete stop, and giving the vehicle a baleful glance, hurried over to us.

My dad was a bit slower, but he finally caught up.

“I’m fine, fine,” I said, for the second time today. “The deputy here is going to retrieve the Jeep for us, Dad.”

“Where exactly is my J
eep?” Dad said, looking around.

Pearlie pointed. “Down that hill.”

The men went to the edge and down the hill at the Jeep perched against the boulder.

Caleb expelled a curse, and my dad’s jaw dropped.

I stood twisting my hands together hoping to warm myself from the developing frost in my father’s expression.

“Good thing you had
that roll bar installed.” I said.

“You
rolled
it?”

“
I swerved to miss this huge truck and it sort of slid off the road. I tried to put on the brakes but we were already leaning too far over, and one side just lifted up and we rolled over.”

“T
wice,” Pearlie said. “I was scared to death we were gonna die.”

Dad looked me over, shaking his head. “It’s a miracle you girls weren’t killed.”

“Don’t know about your Jeep though, Dad,” I said, chewing on my lip.

The deputy came back with a big hook crimped to the end of a thick cable.

“How long is your cable?” Dad asked.

“Two hundred feet. Why?”

Dad eyed the Jeep and said, “You got a rope?”

“Yeah, but a rope won’t do it. This truck will pull your Jeep up in no time.”

Dad just snorted. “Get me the rope.”

The deputy prickled at my dad’s authoritative voice. “Now, look
here, old man—”

“Listen, kid, that’s my Jeep down there. If you want to get paid, then you’ll do as I say.”

His mouth tightened, but the word
paid
did the trick and he left to retrieve the rope.

Dad tied it around his waist and said,” First of all, I doubt that two hundred feet of cable will do it. And second, I want to see if it’s drivable. Give me the keys,
Lalla.”

“L
et me do it,” I said. “It’s my fault it’s down there.”

“No, I’ll go,” Caleb said.

“It’s nobody’s fault,” my dad said, knotting the rope around his waist and securing the tow hook onto the rope. “You were trying to avoid getting rammed by an oncoming truck. Now quit fussing and watch to make sure Deputy Dumb-Ass knows how to operate a winch.”

Which was so much hubris since Dad didn’t know how to operate one
, either. When the deputy hit the button, my father backed up and eased over the edge of the bluff.

Sure enough, the end of the cable paid out within a hundred yards of the Jeep.
Dad eased down to the end of his rope, unhooking from the cable and rope, he scrambled to the driver’s side, opened the door and got in.

The engine sputtered, but with
a lurch of shifting gears and a cloud of dust exploding from the tail pipe, the Jeep started to move.

The deputy
gawked. “He isn’t going to try to drive that thing uphill, is he?”

Dad maneuvered the wheels, twisting first one way and then the other
, hitting the gas and creeping away from the boulder.

Pearlie and I applauded, but the deputy looked worried. “What’s he doing? It’s too steep to—”

The Jeep slipped on a rock, started again, and then rounded the boulder and turned downhill.

I laughed. I knew it! My father, the tight wad, figured if he could drive off the hill himself, none of us would be out of pocket for the tow.

“How come
you
didn’t think of that?” Pearlie asked me.

“Because,” I said, “Dad took lessons on how to use the lockers, not me.”

Noticing the deputy’s mouth hanging open, Pearlie gleefully poked him in the shoulder. “I guess that
old
man showed you a thing or two.”

Now in a sulk, Deputy Dumb-Ass said, “Well—well, you still owe me for the tow.”

Caleb pulled out two twenties. “I think this will cover your gas, deputy.”

He looked like he wa
s going to object, but accepted the money and got back into his truck.

Waving off the dust cloud he’d left us in, I laughed. “Well, as my daddy would say,
Old age and treachery will overcome youth and skill any old day
.”

Pearlie looked at the only vehicle left to us. “That’s Uncle Ed’s race car? Oh, boy, I
wanna drive it.”

“Let’s wait till Noah gets back,
” I said.

My
cell phone rang. It was my dad, he was on Red Mountain Road and would be with us again in another minute. I closed my phone, still smiling.

Pearlie, determined to drive, refused to vacate the driver’s seat, so
when Noah arrived, he got in the passenger side and showed her how to start it. She stepped on the gas and the Bugatti sped away.

Caleb and I were left
to swipe at the cloud of dust.

“You’ve got dirt on your face,” he said, wiping a smudge on my cheek. “Are you sure you’re not injured?”

I hugged him. “Squeeze, please?”

He chuckled. “You’re filthy, but okay,” he said, wrapping his arms around me, and tightening until I squeaked.

“I guess you’re all right if I can still get a squeak out of you.”

“It was so weird. First the wheels lifted, and the Jeep slowly tilted. and I kept thinking one roll would be it, but then it did it all ov
er again. I’ll never forget the creaking metal and groaning of the tires as the Jeep lifted and rolled again. I had the benefit of the wheel. I’ll have a bruise from the seatbelt, the windshield is busted, the fenders are bent, and the side mirrors are shot. As you can see, none of this has slowed Pearlie down. She’s going to want to keep that Bugatti. Did you and dad find out if it’s valuable?”

“Not yet,” he said, “but I’ll look it up when we get home. I have some other news for you.”

“About the case?” I asked.

“Get in and I’ll tell you.”

I buckled up, then cringed when he said, “Your employer called.”

Pearlie now had two clients—Bethany’s dad and the police chief’s widow, and she wasn’t legal in any state, much less Arizona.

“What exactly do you mean by
employer
?” I asked, hoping he didn’t know we now had two of them.

“Mac Coker, Bethany’s dad. He called the house, but since Pearlie wasn’t available, he asked for her partner,
Lalla Bains.”

“So what do you have for us?”

“Good God,” he said, laughter in his voice. “I’d better warn Detective Tom. You girls will be after his job next.”

A blush ran up my neck. “Please, Caleb. We’re trying to help one bereaved father and keep
my own father out of jail. Did Mac say why he called? Did he get a copy of the evidence list?”

“Yeah, and he asked
us to meet him at the house.”

“Did you say
us
?”

“Sweetheart. I said I was in, didn’t I? I’ve discussed this with Detective Tom. He understands that you and Pearlie can be an asset in this case, but only if I’m point man. If any evidence is discovered it will immediately be turned over to his department. Do you agree?”

“Oh, sure,” I said. I thought about the CD Pearlie removed from Bethany’s room, but decided to leave it where it was, safely hidden in the living room bureau, which Pearlie was using as her underwear drawer. If it became necessary, we could always turn it over to Homicide. Would we be in trouble or lauded as heroes for coming up with the perp’s fingerprints?

“I’ll be interested to see what you think of Mac Coker.” I blew on a tissue, removing more dust from my sinuses.

“Why? Is there something I should know?”

“I’ll let you decide,” I said, shaking the dirt out of my hair. “
I need a shower.”

Caleb put the Jeep in gear. “I’ll tell you what I know. Reina Schmidt’s boyfriend, Julio Castillo, has a record.”

“For what?”

“Drug trafficking. He’s on parole. Just promise me you’ll stay away from him,
Lalla.”

“I may be too late on that one.”

“Why?”

“He wasn’t happy that we were talking to his girlfriend, and now I’m wondering if he
was the one who knocked us off the bluff today.”

Caleb’s jaw clenched but he didn’t bother reprimanding me. He didn’t have access to the case files, nor would he know who might be a suspect, not unless Detective Tom decided it was in his best interests to share this case with Caleb.

“You said it was a big white truck?” he asked. “You said he scraped along the side of the Jeep? Someone will look at Julio’s truck. Does Reina have reason to be afraid of him?”

I thought of the sound of glass breaking and her wail of despair, and how in spite of her delicate appearance, she so easily dismissed him.

“What’s his alibi for the day Bethany was murdered?” I asked.

“He was at his body shop, and so far his alibi sticks.”

“I keep thinking there’s something else these two are hiding. Or, perhaps he’s just sweating his proximity to a crime scene because he’s on parole.”

“That’s for the detectives to sort out, not us. And if he was responsible for shoving you over that cliff, I’ll personally see he goes back to prison.”

I chewed on a hangnail. “Okay. Shower, and then we go see Mac Coker.”

“I need to get your dad’s Jeep to the Chrysler dealer and pick up a rental car, too. Somethin
g nice and sturdy—like a Hummer.”

He was right of course. Hopefully, I could keep from wrecking
that too.

.

Chapter Twenty-two:

Since the Jeep had a cracked windshield, missing side mirrors and dented fenders we took the
backroads to avoid getting pulled over by DPS. Caleb dropped Pearlie and me at the Avis car rental in Sierra Vista while he took the Jeep to the Chrysler dealership with instructions to fix it all, including the wobble in the steering. We drove the rental, a nice white Camry, to the Chrysler dealer, and I handed over my credit card without asking about an estimate. Better this than listen to my dad howl at the damage to his wallet.

Mac Coker
invited us into his kitchen for coffee and a look at the list of items removed from his daughter’s house by the detectives.

When I questioned t
he shovel and water hose, Caleb said, “They would’ve
canvassed
the search warrant, which would include everything from the road to the house.”

“No laptop, no cell phone,” Pearlie said, scanning the list. “Is this all they took?”

“She had a laptop,” Mac Coker said. “I bought her a new one last Christmas. If it’s not on the list, then the thief took it along with her meds.”

“
Meds and electronic devices are the first things thieves look for,” Caleb said.

“Then it
was
a burglar,” Mac said, swallowing hard. “But why didn’t he run when the police chief got here? Why did he have to kill my daughter?”

Pearlie put a hand on his arm. “We’ll find this guy, Mac.”

Mac swore. “And I thought she’d be safe with a tough guy like Jason on the property.”

“Tough guy?” I asked. “In what way?”

“He’s retired military. Navy Seals.”

Caleb leaned his knee against mine warning me to keep quiet. “Homicide has interviewed and cleared him.”

“Has Homicide—” I asked.

Pearlie butted in, “What I want to know is, did they—”

Caleb held up his hands. “Ladies, please, one at a time.”

Pearlie waved a hand in my direction, deferring the questions to me.

“What about prints?” I asked.

“Reina and Jason readily admitted that they’d been in the house,” Caleb said, “and of course the police chief’s prints were in her room.”

“That poor man,” Pearlie said. “He busted in on her attacker and got killed for it. What about other prints, DNA samples and such?”

Caleb glanced at Mac. There was no delicate way to mention that every orifice of Bethany’s body would have been swabbed. “DNA analysis in Arizona is almost as slow as California.”

“How long?” Mac asked, his face darkening.

“Detective Tom said it
could take months,” Caleb said.

Mac exploded, slamming his open palm on the table. “This is my daughter’s killer, for Chris’ sake!”

“I’m sure the detective will pressure the lab,” Caleb said, “but it’s more than likely that this case will be solved in the usual way—interviewing the obvious suspects, finding the connections linking suspects that lead to the killer, or killers.”

Mac Coker took
Caleb’s answer and snapped a wooden spoon in two.

Pearlie nodded. “And that’s why we can’t depend on the sheriff’s department to crack this case.
We’re
going to find Beth’s killer.”

When Caleb’s lips tightened in disapproval, Pearlie
turned on him. “You should be pushing Detective Tom to tell you who they suspect.”

Caleb’s light green eyes went one shade colder. “The Cochise County sheriff’s department is under no obligation to tell me anything.”

Even
I
could decode that message; Detective Tom would not be sharing information that might cause Lalla and Pearlie Bains to meddle where they weren’t wanted.

“What about tire tracks?” I asked. “Can all of them be accounted for?”

“Useless after the EMTs and coroner’s wagon rolled into the yard,” Caleb said.

Mac
pursed his lips. “If you will forgive me, I have some calls to make.”

Seeing Caleb start to rise out of his chair, Mac said, “No, please stay as long as you like. There’s more iced tea and lemonade in the fridge.”

When he left, I looked around the kitchen with its recently laundered window curtains, the copper pans hanging brightly on their hooks above a recently scrubbed cooktop. Mac Coker had been busy setting to right what he could. But seeing the lack of progress in his daughter’s murder investigation was wearing his patience thin.

“He’s going to call in outside help,” I said.

“We’ve still got time to come up with a suspect,” Pearlie said. “Talking about his daughter’s murder has to be painful. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lose a child, much less to a senseless murder, and Bethany was his only child.”

“What did the M.E. say about the timing for the murders? Was the police chief killed at the same time as Bethany?”
I asked.

“The M.E. estimates his death at two or three hours after Bethany died,” Caleb said.

“So that’s what Dad meant,” I said.

“What?” Caleb asked.

“When he said that someone was down there with him, but then he was gone.”

“The M.E. said the trauma to the chief’s head would have precluded his
ever regaining consciousness.”

“That’s why the killer came back,” I said. “To check on his handiwork, make sure the man was dead.”

“Finding a critically injured man down there must’ve been a shock for your dad,” Pearlie said.

“P
lanting Noah’s jacket at Bethany’s house was meant to implicate him,” Caleb added. “This is one killer with ice in his veins, that’s for sure.”

“Caleb,” I said, “You mentioned that Reina’s prints were in the room. What about her boyfriend, Julio Castillo. Did—?”

He reached over and kissed me on the lips. Stunned, I leaned into the kiss and completely forgot what I was saying.

“
Hey! Either of you lovebirds notice there’s a door out of the kitchen?” Pearlie asked.

“Most farmhouses
do,” I said, dreamily.

“I’m sure the detectives checked out every possible clue,” Caleb said, getting out of his chair.

Pearlie ignored Caleb and stepped out the back door.

“There’s nothing out there but bushes and moun
tains,” Caleb said.

I took his hand and followed her outside.

Pearlie stood, hands on hips, panning the soft brown hills as they rose up into mountains.

I nudged Caleb.
“What’d you kiss me for?”

“Because I don’t want you talking about Julio Castillo. Not in Mac Coker’s house, and not just yet. If you can wait for a few hours, I might have an answer for you. Okay?”

I shrugged, now confused. “I guess.”

A buzzard soared
overhead, casting a brief shadow across the mesquite and onto an unremarkable trail.

“There,” Pearlie said, pointing to
the track of sand. “That’s how our killer came in and escaped without being noticed.”

“Homicide has been through this,” Caleb said, pointing to the stamp of feet.
“Nothing new here.”

Pearlie said, “Yeah, but look where it leads—there’s a road up yonder.”

“And it looks like a bad one too,” I said, craning my neck to see where it went. “But it may explain a few things.”

Pearlie turned to face us, her eyes bright with anticipation. “Let’s go find out, shall we?”

Without waiting to see if we were following, she turned on her heel and made tracks for the rental car.

“So did the detective tell you about this road?” I asked Caleb over my shoulder.

“I keep telling you, they don’t
have
to tell me anything, but I’ll drive.”

Pearlie took the backseat, scooting up
and hanging her elbows on the front back rest to see where the trail led.

Caleb followed it until it flowed into another rock strewn and seldom used road. When he hesitated, I said, “I know, it’s a rental, but the road is drivable.
”

Caleb grunted in agreement
and turned left. We climbed, rocking through potholes and washed out gullies, and finally crested the bluff. One way led downhill toward the empty mine pit just waiting for its next victim, and the other way went uphill, ending at Highway 92.

“This is just one big circle,” I said. “It passes Bethany’s, winds down to our place and finally intersects the highway.”

“The killer could’ve come in and left this way, and no one would’ve seen him,” Pearlie said. “Probably the same person who knocked us off the road.”

“And this is as far as I go today, ladies,” Caleb said, doing a three-point turn and
heading back toward our house.

“Why? You got plans?” I asked.

“I’m going to take you two girls home, then have a chat with Detective Tom.”

“Really? What about?” Pearlie asked.

When he didn’t answer, I poked him with a forefinger. “And of course you’ll share anything you learn from him with us, right?”

“We’ll see,” he said.

Like Pearlie said, he’s always going to be a cop.