“Maybe she was seeing things,” Paul said agreeably.
“You want to get ahold of her? She feeds the cats at the old Rosie’s parking lot right by the bridge every afternoon at about three o’clock. I’ve seen her other places too. She drives around in an old white Olds Cutlass.”
“Do you know her last name?”
“Sure don’t.” Cervantes shook his head. “One of the neighbors,” he repeated with that incredulous smile.
“Nobody comes to mind?” Nina said.
“No. You believe Danny had nothing to do with setting the fires, he was just trying to catch the arsonist? Is that right?”
“That’s what Wish tells us, and we believe him,” Nina said.
“You’re not just playing with my head?”
“Why would I do that?”
“How should I know?” He gave her a challenging look, and she thought, he’s not naive either.
“Mr. Cervantes, I just want to help Wish.” He was still thinking, observing her, eyes narrow.
“You want to add something?” she said.
“I have an idea. You want to find out for yourself about the neighbors? Come to the Siesta Court Bunch barbecue tomorrow night. We all get together once a month on Saturday night and have a potluck. We go way back, most of us. I’ll take you.”
Nina jumped on it. She said, “That’s a very good idea. Thank you.”
Paul looked dubious. He said, “They won’t feel free and easy if they know why we’re there.”
“We could go anonymously,” Nina said. “Mr. Cervantes won’t tell anybody.”
“You can go as my date,” Cervantes said. Nina gave a start.
“What about me?” Paul said.
“I don’t know how to explain you,” Cervantes said. “I’ve seen you in the papers. Somebody else probably has too.” He looked at Nina. “You want to come as my guest, or not?”
“Yes,” Nina said. Paul gave her a small kick under the counter, which she returned.
Cervantes gave her the number on Siesta Court. “Six o’clock tomorrow,” he said. “Don’t dress up or you’ll stand out too much. Shorts and flip-flops.”
“I look forward to it,” Nina said. Since Paul had already let her know that he didn’t like the plan, she avoided his eyes.
“The drinks are on her,” Paul said, and Cervantes put his wallet back into his pocket.
Paul had to get back to Carmel and the office, so he dropped Nina a block from the Salinas courthouse at a bail-bonds place. He let her know that he didn’t like her going to the party without him as soon as they got into the Mustang.
“What’s your problem with it?”
“You’re not an investigator, you’re a lawyer. You’re a lousy liar and they’ll see through you and get suspicious and if the bad guy is there, he’ll know we’re looking for him.”
“You just don’t want me to go without you. I’m not an idiot, Paul. It’s just a neighborhood barbecue.”
“Cervantes is a good bet to be the bad guy himself. I don’t trust him.”
“I’ll be careful. I’ll stay around other people. Besides, I have a different take on him. Why would he offer to take me if he didn’t want to find out what happened? If he already knows, he’s not going to get involved with us like this.”
“He’s attracted to you. He’s using the situation to get you alone.”
“Come on, Paul, give me a break. You sound like a preacher talking to a thirteen-year-old.”
“This isn’t about jealousy, Nina.”
“No. It’s about power. It’s about you controlling me,” Nina said.
Paul pulled into the curb in front of the fire hydrant, leaving the car in drive. He didn’t say anything.
“I should be finished by four.” She twisted around and retrieved her briefcase from the back seat, feeling regret at what she had said. But not enough regret to unsay it.
She talked to the bondsman while he ate his sub sandwich and set an account for fast action that afternoon, leaving her own credit-card number. Then she walked rapidly back to the big white concrete building with its concrete courtyard, found the right wing, and climbed the stairs to the courtroom, arriving with fifteen minutes to spare.
Wish had already been brought in and sat in the jury box with the other prisoners. Seeing him, hair lank, eyes downturned, hurt her. At least his eyes were almost back to normal. He must have gotten treatment for the poison oak while in jail. It added to her feeling of kinship with him.
When he noticed her, he gave her a thumbs-up. She passed through the gate to the attorney seating and had barely sat down when a face from the past came over and said, “It’s been a few years.”
Jaime Sandoval had aged prematurely in the eight years since they had graduated from the Monterey College of Law together. Law does that to you, if you’re any good. The thick hair she remembered was streaked with white above his forehead. The narrow black specs were new too. On the other hand, the shy Mexican-American boy who never raised a hand in class looked a lot more self-confident these days. As a deputy D.A., he had the state of California behind him, always a confidence builder.
Nina smiled. “Good to see you, Jaime.”
He sat down beside her, holding his briefcase. He wore a wedding ring now and she smelled his spicy aftershave.
“You look good.”
“So do you. I’m surprised you went into the D.A.’s office.”
“Oh yeah, when I knew you I was going to be a corporate lawyer. I tried that for a year at a small firm in Monterey. Got so bored with the paper pushing I decided to try this out. They told me I was stepping down but I decided downward mobility beats terminal ennui. So here I am. What about you? I thought you headed for the city lights.”
“Long story,” Nina said. “San Francisco, Tahoe. Solo practice the last few years. I’m down here for the summer.”
“A lot has happened since you left. We actually got a Latino judge. Of course, they’re still trying to trump up some way to kick him out.”
“How long did it take? A hundred fifty-five years, right?”
“Counting from when the U.S. took the place from us, yes.”
“I’m glad to hear it.”
“So you came back home. What are you doing for an office?”
“Well, uh, I’m borrowing some space right now.” That didn’t sound too impressive, but a fancy office wouldn’t impress Jaime either. “You covering the Whitefeather bail hearing?” she went on.
“I’m covering all the bail hearings, in about three minutes. So you’re here for the arson-homicide case?”
Nina’s heart sank. “Last time I looked, it was a trespassing case. And I’m thinking he ought to be let out on his own recognizance this afternoon.”
“Sorry I can’t help you,” Jaime said. “It’s not just trespassing, it never was. We just got the complaint amended. Here you go.” He handed her a document with several counts listed. Nina scanned it, staying cool, searching for a quick way out for Wish.
The charges were worse, far worse, than she had expected.
At this stage, she had anticipated a couple of arson counts, but as she read she saw in Count Four that Wish was being charged with second-degree murder under the felony-accessory rule. He and his accomplice, Daniel Cervantes, according to the amended complaint, had committed felony arsons, and during the commission of one of the felonies Daniel Cervantes had died. That made Wish as responsible as if he had killed Danny himself.
Still reeling from Count Four, Nina came to Count Five. According to this one, Wish had with malice aforethought killed Daniel Cervantes and attempted to cover up the murder with a fire.
“I don’t believe it! Talk about trumping things up!” she said. “Premeditated murder? Are you nuts?”
“We had to rush it some, because we couldn’t let him out,” Jaime said.
“You don’t have the evidence. You’re making a mistake, Jaime.”
“It’s a murder. The coroner found kerosene tr
aces all over the body. Somebody wanted to make sure it burned.”
“But-”
“And your guy’s camera was the murder weapon, according to a forensics report I received approximately ninety minutes ago,” Jaime said. “Like I said, it’s been a rush.”
“You-you have fingerprints?”
“Not with the heat and flames. The camera’s enough.”
“But the arsonist was up there too! Listen, Jaime, I’m going to tell you in a nutshell what happened up there.” She told him about the reward and the arsonist, leaning her head close to his. He listened carefully and nodded.
“That’s what happened,” she finished.
“Very interesting. You have any proof? Any hard evidence? Since you’re not letting your client talk?”
“We’re working on it.”
“Good. Anything you come up with, we’ll talk.” Another lawyer had caught his eye. He started to get up.
“Wait,” Nina said. She practically grabbed his coattail. She would have kissed his ring if he had held it out. She really wanted Wish out, today.
“This doesn’t change anything,” Jaime said. “Words are cheap.” He looked down at her and she thought she saw a trace of triumph in his eyes. She had given something for nothing.
“I can’t talk like this to you again, Jaime,” she said. “I see that I made a mistake.”
“I have to go. See you later.”
“I want a copy of that forensics report.”
“As provided by law.”
“Don’t do this. Let him out on the trespassing charge and let’s talk. You’ll be glad you did.”
“It’s outta my hands. He stays in jail, those are my instructions.”
“Wait. Just one more thing-”
“What?” He balanced on his toes, ready to go, his face impassive.
“Did you find film in the camera?”
“Yeah. It’s a Canon digital SLR, hefty for such a high-tech item. Has a memory card, not film.”
He watched Nina’s body tense, watched her bite her lip, trying to decide if she really wanted to know the answer to her last question.
“No shots had been taken,” he said. He went off on his next errand of whatever the opposite of mercy was. She sagged against the table. So he had no bomb to explode, no photo that somehow implicated Wish in any of it.
But hadn’t Wish told her that he took many shots?
The bailiff had come in. “All rise,” he said. Nina got up. Judge Salas stepped up to the dais and sat down in his black robes. “Good afternoon,” he said, not looking at anybody.
“You may be seated.” A rustle. Nina looked at Wish, who smiled at her with total confidence that she would deliver him from his travails.
His case came last and when it was called she was waging a final battle with a flare-up of the poison-oak rash on her hip, trying not to scratch. Wish must be feeling far worse. She stood up and moved to the counsel table.
“We have an amended complaint just filed, Judge,” Jaime said.
“You have given a copy to Counsel?” Judge Salas said. He was young for the job, high-voiced, in contrast with the thick brows that come with a high testosterone level.
“I have it, Your Honor,” Nina said. Salas thumbed through the charges, reading Count Five thoroughly.
“Well?” he said.
Jaime said, “He’s dangerous, Judge. Mr. Whitefeather is a transient. He has no family here. He’s only been in the area a few weeks. After the fire he evaded questioning for several days. He’s a flight risk. The murder charge is gonna stick, Judge. We just got the news that the murder weapon was a camera owned by Mr. Whitefeather. No question he was on the ridge on Tuesday night. He admitted that with his counsel present.”
“Whitefeather. What kind of name is that?”
“Mr. Whitefeather is a member of the Washoe tribe from the Lake Tahoe area, Your Honor,” Nina said, stepping in quickly. “His mother is working with the B.I.A. on a federal project out of Washington and she’s on her way here right now. Mr. Whitefeather is working as an intern at a security firm in Carmel this summer, Your Honor. He’s a good student going into his second year in the Criminal Justice Program at Lake Tahoe Community College.”
Salas didn’t react. He looked at Jaime. “Any record?” he asked. “I don’t seem to have a sheet on him.”
“We’re still checking on that,” Jaime said.
“I can personally represent to the court that Mr. Whitefeather has never been arrested for any crime from a misdemeanor on up, let alone been convicted of anything,” Nina said, a true statement legally, since any juvenile record was officially expunged from history. “He worked in my law office at Tahoe for the past two years part-time and his behavior has been exemplary. Let me respond to a couple of points Counsel made earlier-”
The judge held up his hand, silencing her. He said to Jaime, “You charged him with trespassing and today you’re charging him with murder?”
“We don’t want him out,” Jaime said. “We ask that this be made a no-bail case. This is the third fire in a month. This defendant can’t control himself.”
“Mr. Whitefeather didn’t do anything, Your Honor,” Nina said rapidly. “It’s a mistake that comes from moving too fast. Mr. Whitefeather and Mr. Cervantes were present at the last fire because they were trying to catch the arsonist. He had never been on the mountain before-”
“That’s not what we hear from a witness who chased Mr. Cervantes home during a previous fire,” Jaime said, jumping on her words.
“I don’t want to hear any evidence,” Salas said in a complaining voice. “Am I supposed to try the case today? It’s a bail hearing. He won’t even be entering a plea for a couple of days.”
“Okay, then,” Jaime said. “First-degree murder charge. No bail is the appropriate response. Further, this guy is not a local. He stayed out of sight until the Monterey County Sheriff’s Office, acting on a tip, found him at-sorry, Nina-his lawyer’s condo in Carmel.”
“Is that right.” Salas turned baleful eyes on Nina. “I don’t know you, Counselor,” he said.
“As I mentioned, Your Honor, my offices are-were-in Tahoe.”
“Were?”
“I have closed them and am spending the summer here.”
“And where are you practicing law?”
“I share space in the Eastwood Building in Carmel.”
“Hmm.”
“The same office the defendant is allegedly working out of,” Jaime said.
“I am appearing for purposes of the bail hearing and arraignment, if it comes to that,” Nina said. “Naturally, Mr. Whitefeather might prefer local counsel in the event this goes much further.”
Jaime said, “We have a nonlocal vouching for a nonlocal. These fires-a lot more people could die. We owe it to the public to hold on to Mr. Whitefeather.”
“We are asking for reasonable bail to be set, Your Honor. Any reasonable bail. Mr. Whitefeather makes two thousand dollars a month. Something that will make it possible for him to get out.”
“I’m going to allow bail,” Salas said abruptly.
“But, Judge…” Jaime started.
Salas flung down the file. “One million five,” he said.
Angels must have flown over, because the courtroom got reverent for a moment. Even the regulars in back stopped shifting from buttock to buttock along the benches. A small smile cracked Jaime’s young-old face.
She wasn’t a local like Jaime anymore. Salas was letting her know he didn’t like out-of-towners.
“That would require that Mr. Whitefeather put up a hundred fifty thousand dollars for a cash bond,” Nina said steadily. “His family can’t raise that amount of money, and they certainly don’t have collateral for the remainder either. I request that the court reconsider.”
“One million five,” the judge said again, addressing Nina directly. “You want bail, you got bail.”
“That kind of bail I can do without.”
“Then do wi
thout. You want no bail? You smart-mouthing me?”
“No, Your Honor.” Geez, Nina thought, the first in 155 years and he’s gonna make up for it all this month. She suppressed that unworthy thought.
The judge glanced at the clock on the wall and the roll of his eyes said, Judge to defense counsel: You are wasting your time.
“Anything else?” Salas said. Nina and Jaime stood silent.
“So ordered.” The judge picked up his shiny gavel and gave it a rap. Only new judges did that.
She had a moment with Wish before the bailiff took him back to jail. “I wouldn’t even let me out,” Wish said. “Not the way it sounds. My camera! The firebug-he must’ve picked it up and hit Danny with it. Why did I give in? Danny and his dumb ideas!”
“Keep your spirits up, Wish. You’ll be arraigned soon.” She explained the purposes of arraignment. “I’ll see you then.”
“Nina, you and Paul have to find out who set those fires. That’s all I can think about. Who did it. Who…”-he choked on his words-“who killed Danny. Who put me in jail.”
Huge questions. “Your mom is flying in tonight. She’ll come to see you after supper.”
“Yikes! That’s all I need.”
“I’ll try to explain it all to her at dinner.”
“Well, at least I finally have a topic for my term paper next semester,” Wish said. “‘Life in the Joint.’ Like the title? I’m keeping a journal.”
Nina tried to smile. “So something good will come of this.”
“It’s an experience few law-enforcement officers get to have. That is, if I ever get to be a law-enforcement officer.”
“I’m very sorry I couldn’t get you out-” Nina said.
“If you couldn’t, nobody could-”
“But you won’t be in there long, Wish. I promise you that.”
7
P AUL WORKED ON DINNER WHILE NINA left to pick up Sandy at the airport, borrowing the Mustang. They spoke in monosyllables to each other. They had quarreled, and neither of them seemed to want to clear the air yet.
Sandy waited outside the small terminal in the fog, wearing her familiar square purple coat, bag at her side. Nina loaded the bag into the trunk while Sandy maneuvered herself into the front seat, grumbling. She was a sizable lady and the Mustang rode low to the ground.
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