Scars (Nevada James #2) (Nevada James Mysteries) (4 page)

“I’m not
a detective anymore,” I said. “I’m just someone who used to be one. And I have
my own money.”

“Will
you at least think about it, Nevada?” Jason asked. “It’s not like you have
anything else to do.”

“What I
have to do is kick your ass the next time we’re not in a restaurant full of
witnesses.”

“Fair
enough,” he said.

“Look,
Mrs. Collins…” I started.

“Please
call me Anita. I hope you’ll let me call you Nevada?”

She did
know how to use her charm. “Fine. The thing is, I’m all wrong for this. You
should hire a private investigator. I could probably recommend someone if I
thought about it for a while.”

“I have
hired private investigators. Nothing has ever panned out. I’d like to try
someone new.”

“Then
you should look somewhere else. Me, I’m not what you want.”

Anita
tilted her head to the side. “Maybe I can decide for myself what I want. But I
can only ask you to consider it. Would you do that? Consider it for a day or
two? Is that too much for an old woman to ask?”

She was
very good. Even though I knew I was being manipulated, her affect was enough to
make me want to help her. When grandma tells you her back hurts because she’s
been working over a hot stove all day, you wind up eating her cookies even if
she switched the sugar for salt. “I’ll consider it, but that’s going to be my
answer tomorrow.”

“We’ll
see,” she said. She dug into her purse and came out with a small leather case
from which she removed a business card. “There’s my personal number.” She
offered me the card.

Against
my better judgment, I took it. “I’m only saying I’ll consider it, you
understand?”

“Of
course.” The waiter came by with Jason’s pasta and her salad. “Are you sure you
don’t want something to eat, Nevada?”

I stood
up. “No. I have to get going. You’ll hear from me.”

“I’m
looking forward to it,” she smiled.

That
made one of us.

Chapter 4

I drove in
a loop of the freeways around San Diego after lunch, not really sure what to do
with myself next. I kind of wanted to head north on I-5 and not turn back. I
could do with some time out of the city. It was times like this I wished I had
more friends.

After
half an hour on the road I stopped at a Carl’s Jr. and picked up a hamburger,
but then wound up tossing it in the trash. I still wasn’t hungry. The meeting
with Jason and Anita hadn’t sat right with me. Jason didn’t need to be talking
out of school the way he obviously had been, and as for Anita…there was
something strange about her. It was hard to put my finger on, but I didn’t like
it.

I
thought about heading back to my motel and kicking back for a while, but I
didn’t really have anything to do other than watch television or try and get
Netflix working on my laptop over the motel’s crappy Wi-Fi connection. I could
hit Molly Malone’s dojo for a workout, but I didn’t really feel like sweating,
either. For a minute I thought about buying plane tickets to Hawaii. I could
sit on the beach and watch sunsets for a few days. What was stopping me? For
that matter, what was stopping me from leaving this place and never coming
back? I could start a new life somewhere else. I had the money for it. I could
probably get myself a new identity, if I wanted to. I had enough contacts in
the underworld to make that happen.

Thoughts
like that tended to lead to me sitting on my bed holding my gun, though. It
wasn’t anything I wanted to dwell on today. In the end I just drove to a 7-11
to pick up snacks and some more Diet Coke. When I got back to my motel I saw
Brad Ellis leaning up against his car in the parking lot. He walked over to me
as I parked.

“Detective
James,” he nodded as I got out of the car.

“I’m not
a detective anymore,” I said. “You can just call me Nevada. Or Ms. James, if
you like it better. I don’t really care.” I squinted at him. “How did you know
where to find me?”

“Every
cop in San Diego knows where to find you,” Ellis said. “The captain has someone
out here eyeballing the parking lot more nights than not.”

That
shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but I was a little taken aback. Dan was
going too far with that. I’d have to talk to him about it. “Oh,” I said. “How
about that.”

“I
wanted to apologize about last night,” Ellis said. “We really didn’t get off on
the right foot.”

I looked
around the parking lot. “And you drove all the way over here to tell me that?”

He
shrugged. “This place is literally five minutes away from the station.”

“Okay,”
I said. “Forget about it. I probably didn’t have to act like such a smartass,
but…no, actually I did. Being a smartass is kind of my whole thing. Sorry.”

He
smiled. “Forget it.”

“Anyway,
I bought some chips. I have to go inside and eat them before they go bad.”

Ellis
looked as if he couldn’t tell whether I was making a joke or not. “Yeah, okay.”

He stood
there as I swiped my keycard in the motel door’s lock. I wondered if he thought
I was going to invite him in. I wasn’t, but just turning my back on him seemed
awkward. “Was there something else you needed?” I asked.

Ellis
looked like he was trying to do complex math in his head and for a minute I was
afraid he was trying to work up the courage to ask me out. That wasn’t going to
end well. But instead he said, “Do you really think he’s upset?”

“Who?”

“The
Laughing Man,” Ellis said. “About the homage. You think he’s not going to see
it that way? I’m asking because you know him better than anyone.”

I
thought about that. “Even if it was an homage, he’s still going to see it as a
cheap copy of his work. It’s not like a Grateful Dead tribute band. Or maybe it
is. I don’t know what the Grateful Dead think about tribute bands. I’d be more
inclined to think it was someone who wants to put his skills to the test,
though. Not so much to honor the Laughing Man, but to compete with him.”

“That’s
an interesting theory,” Ellis said.

“Yeah,
and I could be wrong. Maybe it’s someone trying to audition. Somebody who’s
looking for attention. I never heard of a serial killer taking an apprentice,
but maybe that’s what your copycat is looking for. He’s saying, ‘Hey, I’m like
you. Teach me.’ But whatever the intention, if some guy shows up on your
doorstep and hands you a bag of trash, you probably aren’t going to be really
happy about it.”

“Trash,”
Ellis said, frowning at me.

I sighed.
“Yeah, I know. It’s a dead man and I’m a callous bitch because I can’t stop
talking like that. I’ve seen more bodies than I care to remember, Detective.
I’ve put six of them in the ground myself. One more body in an alley is
just…I’m numb to it. I know it should bother me. I know I’m broken. There’s
just not much I can do about it.”

“I don’t
know,” Ellis said. “There’s therapy.”

“I had a
therapist once. It didn’t really work out.”

“Oh. I’m
sorry.”

“Nah,
we’re still tight. She’s just not my therapist anymore. Anyway, I’m going
inside now. You’ve got a copycat to catch. Good luck.”

“Thanks,”
he said. “We’ll get the guy, I’m sure.”

“I’m
sure you will. Sarah’s smart as hell, and you…well, I don’t know the first
thing about you, but you seem to know what you’re doing.”

He held
out his hand and this time I shook it. He’d been nice enough. It wouldn’t kill
me to be nice back to someone for a change. It wasn’t like everyone I met was
just waiting for a chance to stab me in the back, even though that was how I
approached almost every new person I met these days. Maybe I’d even make a new
friend if I tried hard enough. And maybe pigs would fly out of my ass. That
seemed a lot more likely.

Back in
my room I spent an hour watching the Food Network and wishing I had a real
kitchen. My new house would, once the construction on it was finished. I’d
never been much of a cook, but I could always learn. It would be something new
to do. And if it turned out I sucked at it, there was always delivery. I’d
gained twenty pounds since I’d stopped drinking. To be fair, I’d been damn near
skeletal before that. Alcohol had been my primary source of calories and I’d
always choose vodka over food when I was too broke to afford both. And even
when I’d had money, sometimes I was just too drunk to remember to eat for days
at a time. My raging alcoholism had doubled as an incredible weight-loss plan,
although not one I could really write a book about and make a million dollars by
going on talk shows.

After a
while I shut the television off and lay back on the bed, thinking maybe I
should take a nap. I felt drained. If I did, though, I’d never sleep tonight,
and I really didn’t have the option of using alcohol as a sleep aid anymore. I
stared at the ceiling for a while, feeling the weight of my Glock still in its
shoulder holster. My reverie was interrupted by another text from Dan Evans
asking if I was all right. I texted back that I was and he could stop bothering
me any time he wanted to. There was little doubt Sarah was keeping him fully
apprised of whatever was happening with the copycat case. And probably whatever
was happening with me, also.

Around
4:00 pm I took Anita’s card out of my pocket and looked at the phone number. I
put the card down on the bedside table. I’d said I’d give her a day or two
before I turned her down. But part of me didn’t want to turn her down anymore.
I was bored. I’d been waiting three months for the Laughing Man to reappear so
I could finally start hunting him down. He hadn’t made a move. There was no
telling when he would. To be honest, there was no telling
if
he would.
For all I knew he’d been hit by a car while crossing the street. Or he’d had a
heart attack. If something had happened to him he could already be in the
ground and I’d be left waiting until I joined him.

That
left me with nothing to do. I didn’t really have any hobbies. I’d started
practicing Shotokan karate again after my body had recovered from withdrawal
and I could stand up without my legs shaking, but that wasn’t something I was
going to do every day. Nor did I have much in the way of friends. My life
consisted mostly of sitting by myself in a motel room waiting for a lunatic to
murder someone so I could start looking for him. How messed up was
that
?

 I
picked up Anita’s card again. She was a great deal sharper than she’d let on; I
was sure of that much. That old lady act had probably gotten her pretty far in
life. It was intriguing. What was she like when she dropped the act? I wanted
to know.

How
stupid would I have to be to start investigating a twenty-year-old cold case,
though? I hadn’t been lying when I’d said it was probably unsolvable. What were
the odds I was going to have some kind of breakthrough that had eluded everyone
else? Not very damn good. And here I’d just been thinking the Laughing Man
could already be dead, and I’d seen him just three months ago. Twenty years was
a much longer time. On top of that, I didn’t know of a lot of bomb makers that
made it to retirement age. The guy had probably blown himself up by now.

But it
wasn’t as if I had anything better to do.

Eventually
I picked up the phone and dialed Anita’s number. She answered on the first
ring. “This is Nevada James,” I said.

“I’m so
glad you called, Nevada. How are you?” Her voice was warm and inviting, like
she’d just baked an apple pie and wanted to know if I wanted to have my slice
with ice cream or a slice of cheese on top. Not that I’d have minded pie. Pie
actually sounded pretty good.

“I think
we should meet,” I said. “Alone this time.”

“I’d be
happy to,” she said. “When would be a good time for you?”

“Tomorrow.”

“I can
certainly do that,” she said. “I’m hosting a luncheon at the La Jolla Country
Club at noon. You’d be very welcome to attend as my guest.”

“Alone
means without other people around,” I said. “How about before that?”

“Come by
my house for tea? Around ten?”

“That
works for me,” I said.

She gave
me her address, which was to a house in a gated community in Rancho Santa Fe. I
didn’t expect it would be hard to find. I could just start following BMWs if I
couldn’t find the neighborhood. “I’ll see you then,” I said.

“Thank
you, dear,” she said. She hung up. I stared at my phone for a moment. What the
hell had I just gotten myself into?

Chapter 5

The next
morning dawned foggy and cool, which was typical for San Diego more days than
not. The fog would most likely burn off by noon and the rest of the day would
be frustratingly pleasant. I had a Diet Coke and half a bag of chips for
breakfast. It was the most important meal of the day, after all.

After a
cursory check of the parking lot I got in my Mustang and headed out to I-5,
then turned north up the freeway. Rancho Santa Fe was a small community about
half an hour north of the city. I’d heard that, demographically speaking, it
was one of the wealthiest places in the country, but that really wasn’t
something I kept track of. I did know that even with the money Alan Davies had
paid me, I couldn’t have begun to afford a house there. Not that I’d really
have wanted one. I wore jeans and t-shirts more often than not and tended to
stick out like a sore thumb among more refined company.

A quick
check on Google had told me than Anita Collins was an heiress, her
great-grandfather having invented cars. Well, not
cars
. It had been some
extremely important engine component. The technical part of it hadn’t really
interested me. Checking her for a criminal background had been easy, and come
up negative. The same held true for her husband and every member of their
immediate family I could find. There was nothing that made me think they’d had
any enemies, either political or personal. People had secrets, of course, but
if Anita or her husband had rubbed someone the wrong way badly enough to put
their lives in danger, that was something that was going to take a little more
effort to dig up.

Anita’s
neighborhood was in the hills, beyond a gate guarded by a uniformed man in a
little booth. The guard looked to be in his fifties, with graying hair and a
build that suggested he still worked out. He took in the Mustang and gave me a
quick once-over. I expected him to tell me I was probably lost, but before I
even had the chance to speak he said, “Good morning, Detective James. Welcome
to Playa del Mar. We’re happy to have you.”

I stared
at him. “Good god. Was that a
guess
?”

He hit a
switch in the booth and the gate began to open. “I’m not that good,” he smiled.
“We were told to expect you.”

“And you
knew what I looked like and what I was driving?”

“I saw
you on the news,” he admitted. “And I was a cop myself, back in the day.
Traffic.”

He
didn’t look familiar to me, but the odds weren’t great that I’d have recognized
someone from Traffic, anyway. How did you end up here?” I asked. “You write one
of the mayor’s buddies a ticket?”

“Honestly?
This pays a heck of a lot better than being a cop did.”

That
almost seemed hard to believe, until I thought about what I’d made as a cop. It
hadn’t been a lot, and cops didn’t get Christmas bonuses from millionaires.
Well, a few probably did, at least until Internal Affairs caught up with them.

There
were only eight houses in the neighborhood, all of them sprawling Spanish-style
mansions. Anita’s wasn’t hard to find. I pulled into the driveway, parking next
to an immaculate Mercedes. My Mustang looked cheap next to it, but then again,
so did I.

I was a
bit surprised when Anita answered the door herself shortly after I rang the doorbell.
“Good morning, Nevada.” She smiled warmly at me.

“I was
kind of expecting a butler,” I said. “English accent? Overly starched tuxedo?”

“I don’t
have a butler,” she said. “I never really felt the need. It’s just me here. Do
come in.”

Anita
wore a sleeved blue cocktail dress today, conservative but still fancy enough
she’d probably turn some heads at the event she was going to later. I suspected
the conservative aspect of the dress wasn’t born as much out of modesty as it
was to cover what had happened to her body. I could see more burns near her
left wrist where the sleeve ended. They probably went all the way up her arm.

She
caught me looking and laughed pleasantly. “I’m afraid I don’t wear a lot of
swimsuits anymore,” she said, tugging the sleeve down a bit. “Let’s go sit
down. I made a pot of tea. Or…do you prefer coffee? I can put some on if you’d
like.”

“Tea is
fine,” I said. I was more interested in watching her kindly grandmother act at
this point than I was in enjoying hot beverages. She led me into a sitting
room, putting her hand on my arm at one point. The contact suggested both that
we were old friends and that she might need the support. Neither of those
things were true. She was good at this. I was willing to bet she’d had a lot of
practice. I’d seen better liars before, though. Not
much
better, but
once you knew what you were looking for, it got easier to spot them.

The
sitting room was just off of the main staircase. We sat across from each other
on blue couches that had probably cost more than my car. Between us she’d
placed a silver tray with a teapot and china cups on a long wooden coffee
table. I took a moment to look around; the room was lined with paintings of her
family. Her husband had been a handsome man, provided the artist could be trusted
not to have taken liberties with his depiction. Adam had been tall, well-built,
and had a smile that could have melted ice. Anita’s curly-haired son watched me
with blue eyes that had been frozen in time for twenty years. What would he be
doing now, if he’d lived? With the advantages he’d had in life, he could
probably be doing anything. I’d always had a soft spot for children. It had
gotten me into a lot of trouble in the past.

 Anita
poured the tea into two cups and took one for herself. I ignored mine. “I like
this room,” Anita said. “Sometimes when I sit here I feel as if I’m with my
family again.” She sighed as if she’d just eaten a fine dessert. “I do so miss
them.”

“I
imagine you do.”

She gave
me a warm look. “Do you have a family, Nevada?”

“You already
know I don’t,” I said.

Her brow
wrinkled a bit as she raised her teacup to her lips. “Did I? I don’t recall
your saying.”

“The
thing is,” I said, “I’m really good with masks. I’ve seen a lot of them. Why
don’t you go ahead and take yours off now?”

Anita
sipped her tea, took one small swallow, and then put her cup back down. We
looked at each other for a long moment, her radiating the warmth and sincerity
that must have dazzled so many, and then it went off like a light switch. Her
kind eyes were gone. They were ice now. The contrast was so striking that if
I’d left the room a moment earlier and come back in just now I might have asked
this woman where her sister Anita went. This was nobody’s grandmother. This was
a goddess of rage.

“Thank
you,” she said. “I get so sick of that.”

“You’re
very good,” I said. “It’s a little scary.” Anita didn’t look like she wanted to
tuck me into bed anymore. She looked like she wanted to murder everyone on
Earth. Her voice was different now, too. It was deeper, hard, and edged like a
weapon. I realized I’d been off on her age, as well. She was at least ten years
younger than I’d thought.

“Nobody
wants this,” she said, pointing to her face. “Nobody can
handle
this. They
want their grandmother from the movies, so I give it to them.” She smirked.
“What gave me away?”

“Monsters
can always see other monsters,” I said. “But you knew that. It’s why you wanted
me.”

She
pursed her lips. “I might not have put it like that,” she said. “I barely
remembered who you were before the other night, when I saw you on television.
Then I remembered. You’re driven. You’re a hunter. Going after the Laughing Man
nearly drove you insane, but you’re still out there doing it. That’s what I
want.”

I
glanced around the room. “Bringing me in here to look at pictures of your dead
family was a nice touch. Tug at my heartstrings a bit?”

“That
wasn’t a lie,” she said. “I do spend most of my time in this room. Don’t ever
doubt my devotion to my family.” She nodded at a portrait on the far wall. The
three of them were pictured standing together on a grassy field near a lake,
with sailboats passing by in the background. “They were my entire life,
Nevada.”

“That
much is obvious. You’ve been sitting on this for twenty years, just…I was going
to say
burning
but that sounds really crass. Sorry.”

“The
word doesn’t bother me. It’s accurate.”

I shook
my head. “Jesus. People tell me
I
need therapy. I mean, they’re right. I
do, but…”

“Listen
to your child burn to death and then come talk to me about therapy.”

“Fair
enough.”

“So,”
she said, “I was going to bring you here and see if you’d be willing to help
this,” her voice suddenly rose an octave and she was grandma again, “
poor
old woman who lost her family find justice after all these years
.” She
shook her head and grandma disappeared. “But you’ve seen through that. I can
offer you money, but I know exactly what Alan Davies paid you to find his
daughter. You don’t need it.”

“Wait, you
know
Alan Davies?”

“He’s a
major donor,” she nodded. “Through one of his front companies, of course. He
likes to pretend he’s part of polite society. I danced with him once at a ball
years ago. He was doing the dapper man bit. Everyone thought it was just so
precious
,
the handsome young man charming the disfigured old lady.” For a moment she looked
like she was going to spit on the floor. “Jason told me you were involved in
the situation with his missing daughter, so I called him to find out what went
on.”

“I’ll
bet he was surprised when he heard your real voice.”

“I think
he shit his pants
is closer to the truth.”

I had to
suppress a laugh. I’d have had to admit I liked this version of Anita a great
deal more than the other. This was probably what I’d be like if I lived as long
as her, but I knew perfectly well I was going to die long before I ever got old.

“So,”
she continued. “I can’t appeal to you with money. I doubt I can make you feel
sorry enough for a poor old lady that you’ll help me that way, either.”

“I’m
wondering what you’re left with.”

“And I’m
wondering if a child’s death would do it, because that’s what I’m left with.”

I leaned
back on the couch. “That’s a dangerous card to play with me,” I said. “The fact
that you’re old enough to be my mother isn’t going to stop me from punching you
in the face if you cross the line.”

She
nodded. “That’s your weak point, then.” She smiled grimly. “I was fairly
certain, but you shouldn’t have confirmed it, dear.”

“Anyone
who knows about the last Laughing Man case knows that’s my weak spot,” I said.
“So that’s roughly…every adult in San Diego County with a television. It’s how
Alan Davies got me to take his case. Of course, I was so drunk back then, I’d
probably have done it for a case of cheap vodka.”

“Then
I’m a few months too late for that,” she said. “I would have offered you
expensive vodka, of course. Once you were done. I wouldn’t have wanted you
drinking yourself to death before you did the job.”

“I was
kind of kidding about working for vodka.”

“I know,
but if that’s what it would have taken.” She shrugged. “I could appeal to your
sense of justice. You were a police officer. My husband and my son were
murdered, and their murderer is still walking free.”

“If he’s
still even alive, which isn’t a given. It’s been twenty years.”

“I know
he might be dead,” Anita said. “But knowing is worth something to me.”

I
finally took one of the teacups from the table and sipped it. I wasn’t a tea
person, and while I recognized from the smell that this one was supposed to
taste like citrus, it tasted more like someone had managed to screw up boiling
water to me. “Tell me,” I said. “What would you have me do if I found him?”

She
rubbed at the scar on her face. “What if I said I wanted you to bring him here to
me and then walk away?”

“I’d say
to forget about it. I’m not going to be your executioner.”

“Nevada,
tell me something. When you catch up with the Laughing Man, are you planning to
arrest him?”

“I think
you know I’m not.”

She
nodded. “Then why should justice be any different for me?”

I
thought it over. “You know, I don’t have a great answer for that. A long time
ago I’d have said we need to believe in the system, but the truth is I don’t
believe in it anymore. Or maybe I just don’t care about the system. When I find
the Laughing Man I’m going to kill him. I’m going to do it as slowly as I
possibly can. I’m going to make it hurt. But that doesn’t mean I’ll let you do
the same thing. I guess that makes me a hypocrite, but that’s just how it’s
going to have to be.”

Anita
considered her tea. “Very well. Will you help me, though?”

“Say
you’ll be satisfied with the system. Arrest and trial.”

She
looked me in the eyes. “Arrest and trial.”

I held
her stare for a moment, not sure if she was lying to me or not. Even if she
was, she was never going to have a chance to be alone in a room with whoever
killed her family. If she was crafty enough, she might be able to have someone
killed in prison, but that was tricky, and one word about it from me to
Corrections would put the guy in solitary confinement where he’d be
untouchable.

“I’ll
think about it,” I said. “I’m not saying yes or no yet. But I’ll think about
it.”

Anita
sighed. “I’ve been waiting long enough not to be in a rush. But I do hope
you’ll think about it quickly. Time is a factor, if only in the sense that once
the Laughing Man kills again, I know you’re not going to be taking any new
cases.”