‘Call me back and let me know.’
‘Don’t say nothing to Mama until I let you know,’ Dalton said.
‘I won’t,’ Holly said, made her goodbyes and hung up.
Mrs Pettigrew had been lying down for over an hour. Holly had checked a couple of times to make sure she was still alive, and had come back into the living room of the suite satisfied each time. But Holly knew enough psychology to know that excessive sleep was one of the signs of depression.
Sitting down next to Jean on the sofa, she asked, ‘Do you think Mama is situationally depressed or chronically depressed?’
Jean looked at her. ‘I’m not sure,’ she said. ‘That’s a good question, though. Before all this happened, was she moody?’
Holly thought about it for a moment, then said, ‘I’d have to say yes. But Dalton swears that’s just her way. Which I guess means she’s always been moody.’
‘That doesn’t rule out chronic depression,’ Jean said.
‘So you think she should go on anti-depressants?’
‘That would be up to her family doctor, Holly. I can’t diagnose her unless she’s my patient and,’ Jean laughed slightly, ‘with her current outlook regarding yours truly, I’d say the chances of her ever being my patient are slim to never going to happen.’
Holly nodded. ‘Yeah, Mama does seem to want to blame you for just about everything.’
‘Maybe subconsciously she knows I can handle it.’
‘Maybe,’ Holly agreed. ‘You think she really blames me but doesn’t want to take it out on me because of the baby?’
‘Why would she blame you? You’ve had nothing to do with any of this.’
‘Neither have you,’ Holly said.
‘True,’ Jean said. She patted Holly’s shoulder. ‘Who knows what’s in her mind? The best we can do is try to be there for her, make her as comfortable as we can.’
Holly sighed long and hard. ‘Yeah. I guess.’
‘Not much of an answer, huh?’
Holly reached over and hugged Jean. ‘No, not much,’ she said.
I’d personally never been out to the Permeter farm and hoped I’d never have to do it again. It wasn’t the nicest farm in the county, that was for damn sure. Grass was high wherever there weren’t cows to eat it; fences were knocked down in places and patched with one or two strips of barbed wire. The house needed a paint job, as did the barn and most of the outbuildings. Seems the last time any of it was painted was when there was a sale on half cans of multiple paint colors: the house was a dismal white, the barn a faded red, one outbuilding was a peeling green and another was a color not seen in nature. Somebody must have been looking out of the window, ’cause Nick Permeter came out of the front door of the house and stood on the slanted porch waiting for me before I even stopped the engine of the squad car.
When I did get out, he shouted from the porch, ‘What now? You come to arrest me for peeing out back of my barn?’
‘Need to talk to you and your mama inside the house, Nick.’
‘You got a warrant? That’s the only way you’re getting inside my house!’ he yelled. ‘And you ain’t never talking to Mama!’
‘Nick, I got bad news your mama needs to hear. Her and you both,’ I said.
He stared at me. He must have seen something in my face that told him it was real bad because he nodded, turned and opened the front door, holding it for me as I came up the steps of the porch.
The house smelled musty – moldy, even – with an overlay of cooked cabbage. The linoleum on the floor was cracked and missing in places and the walls were old, unpainted shiplap.
Nick called out ‘Mama,’ as we came in and an older woman came out of the kitchen, followed by a younger one. ‘Betty, you see to dinner. Mama, come on in the living room.’
I followed him in and waited for Miz Permeter to take a seat. There were plenty of options. The medium-sized room was stuffed with two sofas, a love seat, two lounge chairs and an overstuffed chair with an ottoman. The old lady took one of the lounge chairs. Nick took the other one while I opted for the chair with the ottoman.
‘Ma’am, Nick, I’m real sorry to tell y’all … Buddy Sheridan opened up the pool hall a little while ago and he found Joe. He’d been shot. I’m really sorry.’
‘He in the hospital?’ the mama asked.
‘No, ma’am. I’m afraid he didn’t make it. The ME has the body now—’
Nick jumped up from the lounge chair. ‘You’re saying Joe’s dead?’ he demanded.
‘Yes, sir, that’s what I’m saying. I’m really sorry.’
Nick was silent for a moment, as was his mama. Then she began to wail, and at the same time Nick charged me. The chair I was sitting in flew over backwards and I found myself sprawled on my back with Nick Permeter’s hands around my throat. I had the wherewithal to draw my weapon and stick it in his nose. The grip on my throat lessened as I shoved the weapon harder up his nose. Finally he let go and I got up, holstering my gun.
‘You might wanna see to your mama,’ I said, noticing my voice sounded a little croaky.
‘Who did it?’ Nick demanded. ‘You shoot him?’
‘No, I didn’t, Nick. But I’m gonna find out who did and we’ll make ’em pay.’
‘Not if I find him first!’ Nick said and hightailed it out the front door.
By that time, the other Miz Permeter, Nick’s wife Betty, was in the living room, taking care of mama. I decided it was a good time for me to take my leave.
Emmett got back to the shop and sat in his office, thinking things over. Joe Permeter, one of their more deserving yet least likely suspects, was dead. Why? he wondered. Could it have anything to do with what had been going on? How could it? Why would it? When his cell phone rang, he saw from the read-out that it was Milt.
‘Yeah?’ Emmett said.
‘I made the notification to the Permeters. And now I need to rest my brain. I got the address for the last person to see Joe. Mindy Hayes. Lives in town, over at the Shanghai La. Apartment 204. Already called Charlie and told him we’d be interviewing her. You up for it?’
‘On my way,’ Emmett said and hung up.
He knew the Shanghai La all right. When he’d been police chief of Longbranch he’d seen a lot of action at the old Shanghai La apartments. Mostly dope, fist fights, domestics and a couple of assaults, one sexual. The place had been built in the eighties and he doubted if any repairs had been done since then. It looked like a good wind could blow it down. He wasn’t sure how it had stayed standing here in tornado alley. He pulled up to the front entrance and walked in. They were garden apartments built in more or less a square. The front had two apartments on each side with rickety staircases going up on the left and on the right. In the middle of the square was the pool. Or what had been the pool. It was empty now, and as Emmett climbed the steps he could see into it. The space was filled with trash, including a couple of lawn chairs and what appeared to be a dead poodle. He decided not to investigate that.
He found apartment two-oh-four a little down from the stairway and rapped on the front door as there was no bell to be found. It took two more raps before the door opened to reveal a bleary-eyed young woman clutching a terry-cloth robe around her ample body.
‘What?’ she demanded.
‘Mindy Hayes?’ Emmett asked.
‘I don’t want any trouble,’ she said, and started to slam the door.
Emmett stuck his cowboy boot in the space quickly before she could shut it all the way. ‘Ma’am, I’m a deputy sheriff and this is sheriff’s business.’ He showed her his badge.
She loosened the door from his boot and looked at him with bloodshot eyes. ‘I haven’t done nothing!’ she said.
‘No, ma’am. I’m not here about anything you did. I just need to ask you some questions. Mind if I come in?’
‘I ain’t dressed!’ she said.
‘I’ll wait out here if you want,’ Emmett said.
She sighed. ‘Oh, hell. Come on in. I’m up now.
’
She turned her back on Emmett and walked inside. Emmett recognized the furnishings from when the Shanghai La had been his beat. It was the only place in town with furnished apartments, and this furniture looked exactly like the furniture he’d seen back in the day, just a lot more beat up and seedy. Mindy flopped down on a semi-broken sofa so Emmett pulled a chair from the dinette set that took up most of the space in the living room.
‘Whatja want?’ Mindy asked.
She looked to Emmett to be staring thirty in the eye. Her red hair didn’t look natural and it stuck up in all sorts of nasty ways. Her bare feet were dirty and the terry-cloth robe could use some bleach.
‘Ma’am,’ he started, ‘may I ask what time you left work last night?’
‘Huh?’ She’d been leaning back against the sofa but pulled herself forward and scowled. ‘Is Buddy saying I stole something? ’Cause I never!’
‘No, ma’am. It’s nothing like that. Remember what time you left?’
She leaned back and shrugged. ‘Usual time. ’Bout two-thirty, thereabouts.’
‘Was Joe Permeter there when you left?’
She laughed. ‘Oh, yeah. He was cleaning up supposedly but still trying to get me to go to his house with him. I told him once was enough for me.’
‘So when you left he was still there cleaning up?’ Emmett said.
‘Ain’t that what I just said?’
‘Was there anyone else around?’ Emmett asked.
‘No, the place was closed. Everybody was gone. I was the only waitress working last night. Just me and Joe pretending to be a bartender, but that boy can’t even make a mojito. You call that a bartender?’
‘When you left did you see anyone outside? Any extra cars? Anything like that?’
She shook her head. ‘Didn’t notice. Wasn’t really looking. I had a date so I was anxious to get out of there.’ She cocked her head. ‘Why you asking all these questions? The place get robbed or what?’
‘No, ma’am,’ Emmett said, then, seeing how Milt had already notified the next of kin, and what with Buddy Sheridan having found the body, and Buddy more than likely telling his mom, who would tell everyone she worked with and even people coming to buy a house, he decided to go ahead and tell her. ‘Joe Permeter was shot dead last night at the pool hall.’
She made a loud noise then cupped her hands around her mouth and nose, like some women do. Finally she lowered her hands and asked, ‘Did they shoot him in the johnson?’
‘Ma’am?’
‘Well, if they shot him in his privates then you could be sure it was a woman.’
‘No, ma’am, he was shot in the face,’ Emmett said.
Mindy frowned. ‘Well, that’s a shame. For all his assholicness, Joe had a real pretty face.’
Seeing that not much more was forthcoming from the last person, other than the killer, to see Joe Permeter alive, Emmett took his leave and headed back to the shop. He figured he’d call Milt when he got there and let him know about another dead end. He turned into the parking lot just as the front of the building exploded.
I was still on my way back to the shop from the Permeter farm when Emmett called me on my cell and told me about the explosion.
‘Anybody hurt?’ I asked, reaching for my siren and turning it on.
‘I don’t know! I don’t know!’ Emmett shouted. ‘I’m trying to get in now!’
‘You call the fire department?’ I asked.
‘Jesus, Milt. Of course!’ he said, and hung up in my ear.
By the time I got to the shop, there were two fire trucks and an ambulance in front of the building. Since the whole county only has two fire trucks I was scared witless. Add the ambulance to that and I was not thinking as straight as I might have been.
I rushed up to the front doors but the fire chief caught my arm.
‘Can’t go in this way, Milt,’ he said. Pointing, he said, ‘Go in your side door.’
‘Anybody hurt?’ I asked.
He shook his head. ‘Minor cuts and burns.’
I heaved a sigh of relief, thanked him and headed around the building to the employee entrance. Once inside, I coughed a little at the smoke still lingering in the air then glanced in my office to see if it was still standing. It was – and it was crowded. Dalton, Anthony, Anna and Emmett were crammed inside.
‘What the hell happened?’ I asked.
Everybody started talking at once and I said, ‘Anthony! You say.’
‘Yes, sir. We were all back in the bullpen, writing up reports, and Anna here was on the computer doing stuff, when the front doors just blew in! I mean, it was crazy! They just blew in like nothing! Then the big bang and we all hit the floor.’
‘No fire?’ I asked.
‘No, sir. Just the explosion.’
‘What does the fire chief say?’ I asked Emmett.
‘Looks like a bomb,’ he said.
I sank down in one of my visitors’ chairs as Emmett was busy occupying my desk chair. ‘When is this shit going to stop?’ I asked the room in general. There was no quick answer.
So there were plastic sheets on the front of the sheriff’s office that matched the plastic sheets on the back of the sheriff’s house. There was something sorta poetic about that, I thought. The deputies were back in the bullpen and Emmett was sitting in one of my visitors’ chairs while I was righteously back in my paid-for-it-myself black leather swivel chair.
‘What now?’ Emmett asked.
I had no idea. As the ultimate authority figure in this particular building, I had nothing to say. My mind was blank. Basically, I had nothing.
Before I could embarrass myself by answering, Dalton stuck his head in the doorway of my office.
‘Milt, I know this is probably a bad time but I promised Holly I’d ask. Mama’s real depressed like and Holly thinks me going up there could help a bit. What do you think?’
I looked at Emmett and he said, ‘And while he’s on his way he can pick up Jasmine and take her with him.’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ I said. As plans go, at least it was one.
Dalton took off and Emmett used my phone to call Jasmine to tell her to pack. I could hear his end of the conversation.
‘Hey, honey, Dalton’s going to the city to see his mama. I asked him to stop by and pick you up, so start pack—’
Then, ‘Ah, well, no, and you gotta go—’
Followed by, ‘Listen here—’
Finally, ‘Somebody blew up the station, Jasmine. Whoever this bitch is she’s not letting up so you’re going and I’ll hog-tie—’
I heard the last line. ‘So shoot me. Start packing.’ And he hung up.
‘That Jasmine,’ I said, grinning.
‘Don’t even!’ Emmett said. He sighed. ‘I think she’ll go. If not for her own safe-keeping then at least to see Petal.’
I nodded. ‘Mothers are like that.’
‘So now what?’
I sighed. ‘Nick Permeter took off right after I told him about Joe. Says he’s out to kill whoever did it. Doubt he’ll have any better luck than we’ve been having but we need to find him. You know his truck?’
‘Yeah,’ Emmett admitted.
‘Well, go look for it. He’s out there wanting blood for his brother. And we can’t have that.’
‘Why me?’ Emmett all but whined.
‘Why not you?’
He pushed himself up from the chair. ‘I knew, eventually, one of these days, coming to work for you was gonna bite me in the butt,’ he said.
‘Cry me a river,’ I said.
‘So what do I do if I find him?’
‘Shoot him?’ I shook my head. ‘Probably not. Use your best judgment.’
‘OK, so I can shoot him,’ Emmett said and left my office.
I got back to the forms on my deck and the accumulated mail that had been piling up since all this started going down. I noted one envelope on the bottom of the pile, old enough to have been put there by Holly, not Anna, from the Laredo, Texas polic
e department. I’d sent off for confirmation and a recommendation only a couple of days after hiring Anna but it had been over a month. I grabbed the envelope and tore it open. What I found inside was a game changer.
Emmett called to tell me he hadn’t found Nick Permeter. All I said was, ‘Get over here now,’ and hung up.
I looked once again at the letter I’d received over a week ago from the Laredo PD. I had to bounce this off someone, and Emmett had always been a good catch. I didn’t want to go off half-cocked. This was too important. Too many things were riding on my next move. Although every part of my being was twitching, ready to storm out of my office to the bullpen. Ready to end this crap once and for all.
It took Emmett ten long minutes to pull into the parking lot, open the side door and sit his butt down in my chair.
‘Close the door,’ I said.
He reached behind him and shoved it closed.
‘What the hell’s got your panties in a twist?’ he asked.
I handed him the letter. He read it, looked at me then re-read it. Then looked at me again.
‘What the hell—’
‘You thinking what I’m thinking?’ I asked.
The letter read: ‘Dear Sheriff Kovak, I regret to inform you that Laredo police officer Anna Alvarez was killed in the line of duty on December the twelfth last year. She was an exemplary officer and our loss is both professional and personal. I have no idea who you have in your county claiming to be Anna Alvarez, but if she is stating that she is the former Anna Alvarez from the Laredo PD, then she is committing some type of fraud. I wish you luck in your pursuit of this person. Sincerely, Douglas Knight, Deputy Police Chief, Laredo, Texas.’
I called Anthony in the office, made him shut the door behind him and handed him the letter.
Anthony’s mouth had dropped open as he began reading and slammed shut when he finished. ‘What the hell?’ he said.
‘That’s not Anna Alvarez,’ I said, nodding my head toward the bullpen.
‘OK,’ Anthony said. ‘Then who the hell is she?’
‘That’s the sixty-four-thousand-dollar question,’ Emmett said.
We all looked at the closed door of my office, as if we could see through it to the bullpen.
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