by Aimée
“You think maybe Alice moonlights as a hooker?”
“It’s possible. A sexy outfit, wig, and some makeup would bring her up to speed. She has a gambling problem, too, and people like that are usually short of cash. It’s worth a try.”
FIFTEEN
By the time they arrived at the sheriff’s station, Ella was eager to start questioning Billy. There were too many intangibles in this case, and frustration was eating at her. What she and Harry shared back in the day hadn’t been perfect, but his name was indelibly written on the pages of her past. No matter what it took, she’d find his killer.
As she walked into the building, Justine remained behind to follow up with the state lab in Santa Fe, where she’d sent some of the evidence for further testing. As she entered the station, Ella noticed Blalock talking to Sheriff Taylor. His office was in Aztec at SJCSO headquarters, but he spent a lot of time in the field, and often dropped by the Kirtland station.
She was at the front desk clipping her visitor’s pass onto her shirt pocket when Blalock, alone now, came up to her.
“Let’s go. I caught up to Taylor while he was in the neighborhood briefing his deputy sheriff. Once we’re done with O’Donnell, we’ll turn copies of everything we’ve got over to county.”
As she entered the small interrogation room just behind Blalock, Ella noticed that Billy was already reacting to the uncomfortably warm temperature.
“It’s really hot in here. How about turning on the air conditioner?” he said.
“I’m comfortable,” Ella said, though she knew it was near eighty.
Everything in the room was designed to make the suspect uncomfortable and anxious to leave. There was one small table in the center, with one chair for the suspect, and two chairs on the opposite side for the officers. A second detective would take the seat across the table while the primary investigator would sit in front of the suspect, literally backing him up against the wall. If the suspect had an attorney, a fourth chair would be brought into the room.
“Talk to me, Billy. Right now we’ve got enough to put you away for fencing stolen merchandise—multiple charges, of course, and each one kicking in a few more years of jail time. Your only option is to cooperate. If you do, we may be able to cut you a deal of some kind,” Blalock said, having seated himself right across from the suspect.
“Cooperate how? What do you want to know?”
“Start by telling us where you got the antique pottery we found at your store,” Blalock said.
“I pick up stuff on the Internet, at yard sales, out of the back of a pickup, flea markets, you name it,” O’Donnell said. “Items like pottery don’t show up that often, so I don’t have any special inventory codes in my system for it. To me, it’s just miscellaneous merchandise. I bargain hard, buy cheap, and sell at the best price possible. It’s business.”
“Tell us about the merchandise in that hidden storage area?” Ella said, trying to rattle his composure. “I’m talking about inventory behind the big metal shelf. That tactical gear and the weapons in there didn’t come from a yard sale or off the back of a truck.”
For a moment, O’Donnell just stared at them, a blank look on his face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You’re a lousy liar,” Blalock said. “It was right behind the storage shelf. Press the trim, and the door pops open. Don’t add giving false statements to the FBI to the list of charges you’re already facing.”
“Honestly, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said. “And because I’m at a loss here, it looks like you’ll have to wait until my attorney arrives.”
“Look, Billy, I’m not really interested in stolen county property. That’s for the sheriff’s department,” Ella said. “I’m a tribal police officer and I’m working a different case.” She pulled a photo of Harry from her shirt pocket and placed it in front of him. “Do you know this man?”
O’Donnell glanced at it, then after a half a beat, spoke. “Never met him. Sorry.”
Ella noted the pause. “We have reason to believe he was investigating you. Take another look.”
O’Donnell didn’t look down. “Friend of yours?”
Ella continued to look at him but didn’t answer.
“I suppose it’s possible he may have made a purchase at the Emporium, but I don’t remember him. You might ask some of my employees,” he said, leaning back. “Cassie works the register most of the day, show it to her.”
“Count on it,” Ella said.
Just then, a tall redheaded “suit” carrying a briefcase came in. “Don’t say another word, Billy.” He looked at Blalock and Ella. “I’m George Franco, Mr. O’Donnell’s attorney. Why don’t you tell me what this is all about? Is my client being charged?”
Blalock gave him a description of what had transpired at the Emporium, including his client’s possession of unregistered Native American antiquities and stolen county law enforcement tactical gear and confiscated weapons.
“Those are very serious charges. I’ll need time to confer with my client in private,” Franco said.
“I’ve already told them that this is the first I’ve heard about a hidden storeroom, and have nothing to do with those weapons and tactical gear. I took over the place after my dad passed away three months ago. He never said anything to me about this, and there’s no way you can hold me responsible for what he may or may not have done.”
“That’s a valid argument, Billy, but for now, don’t say anything else,” Franco said, then looked at Blalock and Ella. “We’ll need some privacy. And get me a chair.”
“Take mine,” Ella responded, not about to fetch for the man.
As Blalock started for the door, Franco gestured to the window. “And turn off the mike.”
Blalock led the way back out; then they went to the break room. “I didn’t know that about O’Donnell’s father. If that’s true, O’Donnell could be released within the hour. Though the circumstantial evidence is abundant, we can’t physically connect him to anything in that closet.”
Ella nodded. “Along with the county property, we have the pots and other antiquities, but the Emporium has been there for at least thirty years. It’s almost a landmark. I’m guessing you’re right. He’s going to make bail unless we can get more on him—in a hurry.”
“Along with all the stolen inventory, the county judge included O’Donnell’s cell phone in the warrant. Let’s see what calls he’s got logged in there. If he spoke to Harry, that would give us a link between the men,” Blalock said.
“And prove that Billy lied to us,” Ella said.
Blalock stepped inside the first open office door to his right. “Where can we find your computer specialist, Mandy Stillwell?”
“Try the lab,” the office assistant said. “All the way down this hall, then turn right past the restrooms. It’s the first door to your left.”
“Thanks,” Blalock said.
They quickly arrived at a small work area resembling a storeroom. Metal shelves were piled high with monitors, CPUs, and layers of keyboards and other components. A wooden counter, probably a shop table at one time, contained two oversized monitors, a laptop, and a CPU underneath. At the end of the counter closest to the door was a large laser printer. Beside it was a box of printer paper, and on the wall above it a large sign with an arrow pointed down, labeled PRINTER.
“Hi, guys,” Mandy greeted, turning in a swivel chair from the counter where she was working.
“We need to ask you about O’Donnell’s cell phone,” Blalock said.
She nodded. “I’m already on it. I figured you’d need to know who he’d been talking to or texting—particularly if it was someone from the department.”
“And what did you find out?” Blalock said.
She looked down at her iPad. “The cell phone he’s using is a cheap throwaway, a burn phone. No numbers are stored in memory, and he’s only made five outgoing calls—one to his barber, two to his bank, one to a take-out place,
and one to a commercial landscape service.”
“That’s all?” Ella asked, surprised. “How long has he had the phone?”
“Three weeks,” Mandy said.
“He’s got to have another one somewhere,” Blalock said.
“I also checked calls made to and from the landline at the store, but there are hundreds of those for this past month alone. It’ll take a while for me to check them all out, but so far I’ve got nothing that shows a pattern.”
“All right. If you find anything, let me know,” Blalock said, handing her his card.
“No problem, Special Agent Blalock,” she said, putting the card beside her keyboard.
As they walked back to the lobby, Justine met them and Ella updated her on what she’d learned.
“Why a disposable phone? People usually have those for a specific reason,” Justine said. “Sometimes it’s just economics, but all too often it’s because the user is trying to avoid being tracked.”
“We’re thinking there’s another cell phone, one he wasn’t carrying on him when we met up,” Ella said, looking to Blalock, who nodded.
“After we go another round with Billy, let’s head back to his store. We don’t have a warrant for his residence yet, but I’ve made the request and maybe by the time we’re done, we will,” Blalock said.
They returned to the interrogation room, and Franco stood as they came in. “I’ve had an officer lower the thermostat in here. My client has a heart condition and keeping it that hot was a willful disregard for his safety.”
Ella forced herself not to roll her eyes. “He didn’t mention any heart problems to us, Counselor.”
“You’re a tribal officer and you have no jurisdiction here. Why are you talking to my client at all?” Franco said.
“She’s with me, Counselor,” Blalock said, holding up his Bureau badge. He motioned for Ella to sit, and she positioned herself facing the attorney.
Blalock stayed on his feet, across from the suspect, and began to question Billy again, but Franco answered each time “on behalf of his client,” refusing to allow Billy to say a word.
After ten frustrating minutes, Blalock stepped back, throwing up his hands. “I’m done here.”
“Will you, or the sheriff’s deputies, be booking my client?” Franco said.
Blalock shook his head. “I’m not taking any further action at this time. Sheriff Taylor’s investigators will interview him next. I don’t know what their plans are for the suspect or what charges he’ll be facing.”
Blalock and Ella met Justine out in the hall. “We’re getting nowhere,” Blalock growled.
“Let’s go back to the Emporium. I’ve got that clerk, Cassie’s number, and she has a set of keys to let us in. My gut tells me Billy recognized Harry’s photo but chose to play dumb. He hesitated before responding, then wouldn’t look directly at me for a while afterwards. Like you said, he’s a lousy liar,” Ella said.
“Billy was at the top of Ute’s list for a reason, and I trust your instincts about him, so let’s go,” Blalock said.
By the time they arrived at the Emporium, the sun was on the horizon. “It’s been a long day, boss,” Justine said.
“Yeah. After we finish here, why don’t you come home with me and have dinner with the family?”
Justine shook her head. “I can’t tonight. Benny’s cooking.”
“He cooks? You’ve got a good deal going there, cuz,” Ella said as they stepped onto the porch.
“Yeah, I think so, too.”
Blalock met them at the entrance. Cassie had already arrived, and was standing there, waiting with the keys. After being shown a copy of the latest search warrant, Cassie opened the door and went inside with them. She remained at the front register while they continued on to Billy’s office.
Ella glanced around the room. “Okay, let’s try to find that second cell phone.”
Twenty minutes later, Blalock stopped and shook his head. “It’s not in here.”
Justine appeared in the doorway. “I decided to search the cell phone display by the electronics. None are activated.”
“Did you talk to Cassie?” Ella asked her.
“Yeah, but I didn’t tell her what I was looking for, if that’s what you meant.”
“I don’t think she’s involved in what O’Donnell has been doing, and she certainly won’t want to be implicated in any of this,” Ella said. “Let’s enlist her help.”
Ella walked out to the main room and approached the young woman, who was killing time straightening items on a candy display beside the register. “Cassie, I need to ask you something important,” Ella said. “What do you know about Billy’s cell phone?”
“It’s cheap and old school, all he did with it was talk and text. I tried to get him to upgrade, but he said he wasn’t into all that techno stuff.”
“So he only used the cheap model he carried?” Ella asked.
“No. He’d also use the cell phone we have here at the cash register. It’s stuck with Velcro to the bottom of the counter. It’s supposedly only for emergencies, like if a customer is causing trouble, but Billy used it a lot. He said he wanted to make sure it was always charged and problem free.”
Ella smiled. “Can I see it?”
“Sure.”
Cassie brought it up and handed the phone to Ella. “It’s top of the line, or was last week. You know how competitive the mobile device market is these days.”
Ella moved away from the register and searched for a contact list. There were no saved numbers, but she was able to retrieve a list of sent calls. “These date back several months, but there’s one local number that shows up frequently.”
“Call it,” Blalock said, looking over her shoulder.
Ella shook her head. “I’d rather get a reverse directory and find out who it belongs to first,” she said.
Blalock nodded. “Okay, let’s get Mandy.”
Moments later, Mandy returned Blalock’s call. Stepping outside with Ella, Blalock told Mandy what he needed and put her on speaker.
After several moments, Mandy got back on the phone. “I have what you need, Agent Blalock. That cell number is registered to SJCSO Sergeant Robert Kirk. He’s currently assigned to the Hit and Run desk at headquarters in Aztec. Sergeant Kirk’s home address is in Fruitland.”
Ella was surprised to hear his name in connection to their case. She remembered him from the county shooting range. To her, he’d come across as someone coasting toward retirement.
“What’s his work history with the department?” Blalock asked.
“He’s served with the sheriff’s department for twenty years and six months. He worked homicide, then robbery and burglary, but he got shot in 2008 while on duty and was assigned to the evidence room. Currently he’s been working Hit and Run.”
“Sounds like he’s paid his dues. Thanks, Mandy.”
“I’ve got something else for you, Agent Blalock. I continued digging into Mr. O’Donnell’s computer files. Some were doubly encrypted, so it took me a little longer to crack them. Mr. O’Donnell has active listings on Rogerslist for a ten-millimeter Glock Model 20 and three bullet-resistant vests.”
“Good job, Mandy,” Blalock said, and ended the call. “Let’s see if I can speed up that warrant. After we lock up here, I want to search O’Donnell’s house while he’s still in custody. Since the request has already been put through, it’s just a matter of giving things a little nudge. Should be a piece of cake.”
“I sure wish you hadn’t said that,” Ella said. “That practically guarantees that something’s going to go south.”
SIXTEEN
After discovering that the warrant would take more time than expected, they decided to grab dinner. They went to the closest grill, a place that specialized in Mexican food. Justine hadn’t been too happy about canceling her dinner date with Benny, but personal plans were subject to change whenever they were working a case.
Ella and Justine chose stuffed sopaipillas, big, gol
den fried pastries stuffed with the works, including fresh green chile. Blalock ordered the jumbo burger loaded with red chile and fries with the skins on.
They ate leisurely while waiting for the warrant call, and though the food was a little greasier than Ella would have preferred, she had to admit everything tasted wonderful.
“I’m going to miss meals like this after I retire,” Blalock said, savoring each bite as if it were his last. “Ruthann is always worried about her weight, or too much salt or too much cholesterol. That means I eat way too much salad. She doesn’t understand that sometimes a guy just needs guy food.”
Ella laughed. “Hey, healthy eating is a good thing. She cares about you.”
“Yeah, I know. Things are good between us,” Blalock said, smiling. “What about you, Ella? You’ve got a kid entering high school this fall. Are you ever going to settle down?”
“Maybe. I have someone new in my life, so we’ll see how things work out.”
Blalock was about to say more when his phone rang. “Finally. Hopefully this is about the warrant.”
Blalock identified himself, listened, then spoke. “Wait a minute, Sheriff Taylor. Could you repeat that?”
As he hung up, Blalock cursed. “That slippery SOB O’Donnell is already out on bail. Despite being in possession of undocumented Native American artifacts, his buddy on the county commission fast-tracked the process by suggesting that Billy could wear an ankle bracelet. We got the warrant to search his place, but now that the suspect’s been released, we’ll need to play things a little differently.”
“How so?” Ella asked.
Blalock motioned toward the exit. “Billy’s already home, Sheriff Taylor tracked him there, so we better get there ASAP. County’s sending a detective over to Billy’s place to serve the warrant and await our arrival. That should at least keep O’Donnell from trying to move any evidence off the premises.”