by Jessa Archer
“I only spoke to her son. We haven’t been able to locate the daughter.”
“But…Audra said she was heading over to the station when she left my place this morning. When she came to pick up Leo.”
Travis shrugged. “She never showed.”
I took a moment to think that through. “She also apparently lied to me about having her stepfather’s contact info, based on what her brother told me. And are you aware that she wasn’t on the best of terms with her mother? Whitley refused to pay for the rest of her graduate program and cut her out of her will. Doesn’t all of that strike you as a little suspicious?”
“Actually, it does,” he admitted. “Believe it or not, I’m already looking into her. I know how to do my job, Tig. You know me better than to think I’m going to try and pin this on Silvia Gonzalez simply because it’s convenient. I will follow up. But that doesn’t change my duty to investigate all leads. And since Rebecca Whitley was a golfing buddy of the mayor’s wife, everything I do is going to be scrutinized. Alicia joined their golfing foursome too, from time to time, so she’s going to be breathing down my neck as well.” He sighed. “I knew I was going to have to at least get a statement from you, but I was hoping to avoid opening you up to any additional legal jeopardy. And embarrassment for both of us. But you’ve already talked to this Bethany person about it and confirmed the information from Alicia’s anonymous tipster. She just snapped a photo confirming that you’re here and that I’m talking to you, so…you’ve sort of tied my hands, babe. Get out of the car.”
“Why?”
“Because now I’m going to need to take you into the station, too.”
I stared at him for a long moment. He was joking, right?
“If you’d just gone home,” he said, “I would have called and had you come in to tomorrow morning. But you actually pulled up in the parking lot when Alicia is trying to spin the notion that you and Silvia Gonzalez are part of some grand conspiracy. I’ve already gotten a call from Mayor Winstead about this. The entire thing is going to be page one tomorrow no matter what we do. Could you just…go along with it?”
When I realized he was indeed serious, I dropped my phone and keys into my backpack and slipped it over one shoulder. I was about to get out, but then I said, “I need to call Paige. Give me a couple of minutes to talk to her, privately, and I’ll go peacefully. I won’t even make a smart remark as we walk past that stringy-haired, bleached-blonde, halfwit harpy, who wouldn’t be constantly harassing me if she didn’t still have the hots for you. I just need two minutes to explain to my daughter what’s going on.”
“Sure,” he said. “Make your call.”
He walked over to where Alicia was standing as I called Paige. When she answered, I could hear music and road noise in the background.
“Hey, Mom. What’s up? We’re heading home now.”
“Listen, sweetie, I need a favor. Can you see what information you can find about something called Compound 1080? It’s a poison that apparently only the government has access to here in the US. I need to know whether it’s available without a license in Mexico. If you can’t find it online, call Professor Davies. I’ll send you his number. He might have some information.”
“Okay. Not a problem. But…you obviously have your phone with you. You’re pretty good with Google and I don’t even know this Professor Davies guy. Why aren’t you searching for this information yourself?”
“Because I’m in a hurry. I’m not sure they’ll let me keep my phone in jail.”
A chorus of What? sprang up on the other side, so Paige must have had the phone on speaker.
“It’s okay,” I told her. “It’s just a formality. I’m going to ask Ben and Dia to stay at the house with you tonight, though, since I don’t know that I’ll be home.”
“Mom. Delaney and I are both sixteen now. You don’t need to—”
“I know. But I’ll feel better. Humor me, okay?”
Normally I wouldn’t be too worried about them staying on their own. Delaney had spent two nights by herself in New York when her parents had to fly back to California to deal with some issues involved in selling their house in Burbank. But neither of the two people Travis was hauling in had anything to do with killing Rebecca Whitley. That meant that whoever did kill the woman was still at large. And at this point, we didn’t have the slightest clue as to why that person had killed her—well, aside from the woman being a royal pain in the neck of pretty much everyone she knew. It was entirely possible that the killer was someone who simply enjoyed killing, so I definitely didn’t want Paige and Delaney at home by themselves.
Paige said she would text me back as soon as she had some information, and I sent her Sam’s number. And even though I’d only asked if I could call Paige, they had to let you call a lawyer, right? I didn’t have one of those on speed dial, but Melinda Barry did. I gave her a brief rundown of the situation when she picked up, and she promised to send over the attorney who had helped her when Jerald Amundsen was killed.
And then I took a second to send a text to Justin. He and I had this long-running joke when we were both in LA that one thing on our bucket list was to get carted off to jail—preferably for a minor offense, but definitely together. Getting tossed into the back of a police car was something that would be much more tolerable with your best friend. He was, however, currently in the UK, touring with Jersey Boys. And given the time difference, he was probably onstage and wouldn’t get it for a few hours. Oh, well, I told him. Guess he could be there for my second arrest.
Travis was headed back my way when I hung up, so I shoved my phone back into my pocket. Once I was out of the car, I held my wrists out obediently.
“What are you doing?”
“If we’re putting on a show for Alicia and your boss, it would have a lot more dramatic flair if you hauled me away in handcuffs.”
He snorted. “Yeah. That won’t be necessary. Anyway, I didn’t think you were into that sort of thing.”
“People can change a lot in twenty years. And spending a night in jail probably means that your odds of ever finding out exactly what kind of things I am into these days have just taken a nosedive, Travis Lamm.”
“Come on, Tig. I’m not planning to keep you overnight. I don’t want you locked up in a cell, and I don’t want Paige and Delaney to be home alone.”
“I’m making arrangements for Paige and Delaney. And if you hold Silvia overnight, plan to hold me, too. Melinda is sending an attorney.”
“That’s…really not necessary. You don’t actually think I’d do anything to put you in jeopardy, do you?”
“No, Travis. I don’t. You’re in an awkward position. I get that. But if we’re going to put on a show, we might as well make it a good one. I can cover the cost of an attorney. And you’ve known me for a long time. Would you find it believable if I were taken in for a possible connection to murder, and I agreed to speak without an attorney? Would Alicia find it believable?”
“No.” He stared at me for a moment. “I’m sorry about this, okay? Are you mad at me?”
This had been part of our regular shtick during phone arguments years ago, when he’d try to cajole me into a better mood. I waited for the second half of his line—because you sound like you’re mad. But it never came. He was serious.
“No. I’m not mad. I don’t want to cause trouble with your job. I know that you’ve only been in the position for a short time. But as I said, Bethany can back up what I’ve told you if you’d just wait a few minutes for her to get here. And…” I nodded toward his car, where the Gonzalez family was gathered around the open window, talking to Silvia. “All you’ve really got otherwise is that Silvia was in a country where this Compound 1080 is available.”
He frowned. I realized that he was probably trying to remember if he’d told me the name of the poison, so I kept talking, hoping to get his mind off that question.
“Maybe you should ask yourself how you’d respond if you had that same evidence agains
t the mayor’s wife,” I said. “Did you know that she went on a cruise to Cancun recently with some friends? I’m not saying the mayor’s wife had anything to do with Whitley’s death. As far as I know, she was one of the few people who actually liked the woman. But what if you learned that Peggy Winstead had stopped in to a local farmacia where they sold this poison? Would you be hauling her in on evidence that was this shaky? Or are you letting people with political power manipulate you?”
I didn’t wait for an answer. It was written on his face.
“So, no, Travis. I’m not mad at you. I’m just disappointed.”
Even as I said the words, I kind of regretted them. They sounded preachy, like I was his mom lecturing him for breaking curfew. But they were also true, and since I was pretty sure that he could read that on my face, I didn’t insult him by trying to take the words back. I just gave him a sad smile and left him standing there as I headed for the backseat of his police car.
Chapter Seventeen
I pointedly ignored Alicia, even though she had her camera—the expensive one, not just the one in her phone—snapping away as I crossed the parking lot.
Ben gave me a confused look when I motioned him over.
“Can you and Dia camp out at my place for the night?” I asked. “I don’t want Paige and Delaney by themselves.”
“Sure,” he said. “I don’t think that will be a problem. But where are you going?”
“To jail, apparently,” I said, giving him a chipper smile as I closed the door.
I turned to Silvia and asked if it was her first time being arrested.
“Si,” she said.
“Me, too,” I told her. “Looks like we’re going to have a bit of an adventure together. But don’t say anything else to them until our attorney arrives, okay?”
Two cars were pulling into the lot. The first was Bethany. I wasn’t sure about the second vehicle, but it looked like Audra Whitley’s green Prius. Bethany parked, but the green car drove through the parking lot. The driver slowed down for a moment, but then apparently changed his or her mind, and left via the other exit.
“I tried to tell her she should wait for a lawyer,” said Bill, who was still at the open car window. “Chief Lamm told her she had the right to stay silent, but Silvia said she did nothing wrong. That the chief was a good guy and she has nothing to hide.”
“You’re right,” I told Silvia. “Chief Lamm is a good guy, but…it’s too easy for something you say to be misconstrued, even if you haven’t done anything wrong. I’ll cover the cost of the attorney. After all, I’m the one who placed the order you sent to Mrs. Whitley.”
“But why send that awful woman my food?” Silvia asked. “You like my food, right? And Ben tells Dia you do not like Mrs. Whitley, may God rest her soul.” She said the last five words automatically, although her expression suggested that she wasn’t at all sure that Rebecca Whitley was heaven-bound.
“I didn’t like her,” I admitted, and then explained why I placed the order. “Until I talked to Ben yesterday, I didn’t realize the trouble you’d been having over the past week. After I found out, I was planning to go into the OBXpress app and cancel, but then I got busy and forgot.” I nodded through the window toward where Bethany was now parked. “I told Travis you didn’t know where the order was going, and one of the cars that just pulled up is the OBXpress driver who made the delivery. She can’t prove you didn’t know, since I could have told you, but at least she can support what we both told him about the way the system works.”
Bethany was showing him something on her phone. Travis took out his own phone and snapped a picture of what she was holding, which must have been the delivery slip. She said something else, and when he nodded, she went back to her car. As she started to get in, she looked over at the police car and spotted me. I gave her a little finger wave, and mouthed a thank you, even though I suspected her effort was going to be of minimal use.
But I was wrong. As Bethany pulled away, Travis came over and said something to Alicia. It was clearly something she didn’t like, judging from her body language. Travis ignored her and walked over to open Silvia’s door. “We’ve gotten some new information,” he told the Gonzalezes. “I don’t think we’re going to need to take you in at this time, so you can go ahead and get out of the car, Mrs. Gonzalez. You too, Tig.”
I reached for the handle and then realized that there wasn’t one on the inside of the car. Travis came around and opened my door. When I got out, I looked up at him and said in a low voice, “You said that the delivery slip didn’t matter, since Alicia had pointed out that I could have given Silvia the information. Did Bethany tell you something else that changed your mind?”
“No,” Travis said. “You did. I’m going to get called on the carpet tomorrow, but you were right. Why don’t you head home? I’ll call you later. Or stop by, if…”
He let it trail off, clearly unsure where we stood right now. I gave him a smile. “Stop by. There might even be some cake left over.”
Alicia peeled off from the curb while I was telling the Gonzalezes and Ben goodnight. I was about to head to the car when my phone buzzed with an incoming text. It was from Paige.
Compound 1080 is used in nine states out west to control large predators. Only information found says Mexico uses it more widely but doesn’t say you can buy in stores. In US, Federal Wildlife Service oversees. They put the poison into livestock protection collars that have little pockets on the side. The coyote or wolf gets a dose of the poison when they bite through the collar. They die pretty quickly after biting the sheep. Do you need more?
I told her no, and then a question popped into my head. Could she check and see if one of those states was New Mexico?
Travis was explaining to Silvia and Bill that they’d need to stay in the area, and that he couldn’t let them open back up just yet. Bill told him that was okay, because tomorrow was Monday. They were closed anyway.
The answer came back from Paige. Yes, one of the states was New Mexico.
I messaged back a quick thank-you and told her I’d be home shortly.
That really only left two possibilities, at least to my mind. Did Rick kill his wife? Or did Audra kill her mother?
I debated giving this information to Travis now, but he was on the phone with someone. And anyway, I wanted to be sure. Silvia had been pulled into this partly through my actions. Both of the people left on my short list of suspects had apparently just suffered a loss. I didn’t want the innocent party having to deal with the added trauma of the police thinking they might be guilty of murder. Hopefully Andrew Whitley would have some additional information to help me figure this out, and then I’d turn that over to Travis when he stopped by the house later.
I pulled into a drive-thru and grabbed some fast food on my way home, calling Melinda while I waited in line to see if she could cancel the attorney meeting us at the police station. My taste buds felt cheated at the substitution of a chicken sandwich for Silvia’s shrimp mole, but at least my still-growling stomach was appeased. When I pulled into the driveway, I noticed that the lights were on next door. So, I dropped my bag off inside the house, where Paige, Delaney, and Nathan were watching a Marvel movie on Netflix.
“I’m going next door to talk to Andrew for a few minutes,” I told Paige.
“And then you’re going to explain all of this, right? The whole jail false alarm and why we can’t eat the tacos in the fridge?”
“Yes, I’ll explain when I get back,” I said. “And I may have overreacted a bit on the last one.”
“I’m glad you’re home. We were all worried.” That comment came not from Paige, but from my mother, who was with Attila in their usual perch at the bay window.
“Sorry,” I told her.
“It’s okay,” Paige said.
“It’s mostly just leftover toppings now anyway,” Delaney added, “because we’d already had tacos for breakfast.”
“But I made oatmeal.”
“Which lo
oked very nutritious,” Paige responded. “So we decided to save it for you to eat in the morning.”
“Thank you for your sacrifice,” I said dryly. “There had better still be cake in there when I get back.”
When I stepped outside, Andrew was backing out of the garage. I debated just waiting until he returned, but I went ahead and flagged him down just as he pulled into the cul-de-sac.
He rolled down the window. I could tell that he was distraught, even more so than he’d been out at the Playhouse.
“Are you okay?” I asked. “Have you heard from your sister?”
“No. I was just heading out to see if you were still at the restaurant. Were you able to talk them out of arresting Mrs. Gonzalez?”
“Yes,” I told him, opting for the condensed version of events.
“You were right,” Andrew said. “About Rick. My mom’s jewelry is gone. Both the stuff up in her room and downstairs in the safe, where she kept the more expensive items. She also stored a bit of cash inside her desk and a larger sum in the safe. All missing. And Audra still hasn’t called. I’m worried. Maybe she confronted Rick…maybe he—”
“I think she’s okay,” I told him. “When I was outside La Costera, I saw a car that looked like hers drive through the parking lot. It looked like she was going to stop, but then she kept going.”
He took a deep breath, then said, “I hope you’re right. But if she was driving around a mile from here, why didn’t she come by or at least return my calls?”