“Probably not. What about hotels? Chris came in Saturday morning. Where did he stay?”
“I’ve tried all of Westwood and am now doing Beverly Hills—Montage, Beverly Wilshire, the Beverly Hills Hotel. So far, no luck. Maybe I should try smaller places.”
“Maybe he slept in the park…Jeez, that man is hard to locate.” Decker raked his hair with his hands. “Gabe spoke to his mother at four in the afternoon. He said that Terry sounded fine. He returned to the hotel suite at around six-thirty, seven, and she was gone. If Donatti did something to Terry, he only had a two-or three-hourmax window; meaning he would have had to return immediately after he left. Was there any record of any livery service dropping him back off at the hotel?”
“No cab, but I haven’t tried the car services yet.”
“Maybe he had a second vehicle and was planning all along to sneak another visit in with his wife after I had left.”
“Would she be stupid enough to let him in?”
“They parted on relatively good terms. He seemed okay. Maybe she was caught off guard.”
“Or maybe he never returned,” Eliza said, “We’re focused on him, but we ought to consider that Terry was a friendly woman. Maybe the wrong type of guy misinterpreted her friendliness for something more.”
“Then there would have been some sort of struggle in the hotel room. Besides, her car is gone and so are her purse and keys.” Decker thought a moment. “Cars don’t disappear as easily as people. You think we might have found the car by now, and the fact that we haven’t makes me wonder.”
“I’ll check out some local garages and storage areas,” Eliza said.
“Good idea. I’m just wondering if she’s long gone. I think her son found his passport and birth certificate in the hotel safe, but not her passport or her birth certificate. Maybe she took them and took off.”
“Sounds plausible.” A pause. “What do you mean by you think that he has his ID?”
“I asked to look through the papers left behind in the safe and Gabe was reluctant to show them to me. When I asked about his mother’s passport and birth certificate, he was quiet. He’s hiding something. Sooner or later, I’ll get it out of him.”
Eliza paused. “So you haven’t taken a look at his birth certificate?”
“No. Why?”
“Just wondering if she listed Chris as the father. Maybe Terry was hiding a deep secret and Chris found out about it. I mean, we always know who the mother is. But we don’t always know who the father is.”
“I don’t know about that. She was sixteen and a virgin when she met him.”
“So he took her virginity. It doesn’t mean he knocked her up. Didn’t you say he spent some time in jail? Maybe she got bored of waiting.”
“Maybe.” Decker paused. “He would have killed her if he found out the kid wasn’t his.”
“You said it. Maybe the true father is on the birth certificate. Or maybe she’s hiding a DNA test. You know how it is, Lieutenant. Hell hath no fury like a hit man scorned.”
THE WOMAN ON the line sounded elderly. She identified herself as Ramona White. “I’m looking for Lieutenant Detter.”
“This is Lieutenant Decker.”
“Oh, is it Decker? I can’t read my grandson’s handwriting so well.”
“How can I help you, Ms. White?”
“It’s Mrs. White. I’m returning your call.”
“Regarding…”
“I don’t know what it’s regarding. I just got a message to call you.”
Decker had to think for a moment. Grandson…grandmother. “Oh yes. I’m calling about your son-in-law, Eddie Booker. Do you know where he is?”
“He and my daughter are on a cruise.”
“Do you know when they’ll be back?”
“In a couple of days. They went on a cruise to Acapulco. They invited me to come with them, but I get seasick. Besides, someone has to watch the monsters at home.”
“Do you know what cruise line?”
“Seacoast or Seacrest. Something like that.”
“Any way of reaching them?”
“Probably through the company. They left me an itinerary somewhere. Is it an emergency?”
“No, it isn’t. If Eddie checks in with you, could you leave him a message that I’m trying to reach him?”
“What’s going on? Is Eddie in trouble?”
“Not that I know of. Has he been in trouble before?”
“Not that I know of, but you never know. I’ve been married three times. In the beginning, they were all angels. By the end, they were pond scum. So forgive me if I’m cynical. Men just do that to me.”
NO MATTER HOW much the tape was slowed, the detectives couldn’t make out a face. The woman who left the hospital at six in the morning only to go back inside a few moments later would remain a mystery.
Oliver flipped on the lights. “That was a bust.”
“It was indeed. We could go through the tapes one more time.”
Oliver looked at the wall clock. “Aaron Otis and Greg Reyburn are coming in about a half hour. Why don’t we review the tapes after we’ve interviewed the lads.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Marge checked her cell phone. “Hmm…” She called her voice mail and listened to the messages. “That was St. Tim’s. Someone named Hilda or something. Adrianna was paged at six-oh-seven. So maybe that second phone was a pager.”
“And that would mean the lady in the video was probably her,” Oliver said.
Marge said, “Who was she trying to call?”
“Probably Garth, but it didn’t register on her phone records. It probably never connected. How about a coffee break?”
“Decker gave me Adrianna’s diary. I’m going to look through it before we talk to the boys. See if I can find out a hint of a love connection between Aaron and her. But you’re welcome to use the machine.”
“You know I don’t know how to do it.”
“And that’s my problem because—”
“All right, all right.” He stood up. “I’ll bite the bullet. Teach me how to foam.”
“Now it’ll have to wait, Scott. I’ve got things to do.”
“How long would it take?”
“The truth is, it probably wouldn’t take too long, but that’s not the point. I was willing to put myself out this morning, but you didn’t want to.”
“How about if I beg?”
She got up. “If you’re going to demean yourself, ask for more than a latte.”
“Sweetheart, I’ve demeaned myself for a lot less. At least a latte won’t slap my face when I’m done drinking.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MARGE WAS OLD enough to remember when a tattoo meant something, that the skin art went hand in hand with felonious behavior and an affiliation with a badass gang. Back then, the only other acceptable tattoos, like MOM enclosed in a heart, were associated with men of the U.S. armed services. The rest of the male population went without. Nowadays ink was completely accepted and worn like permanent jewelry. Tattooing had almost become, dare she say it, conventional ornamentation. The really handy thing that came out of the craft was identification because no two images were exactly alike.
Aaron Otis was festooned with multicolored swirls up and down his left arm, while his right arm had been inked in a series of arm-bands that included—but was not limited to—a circle of razor-tipped barbed wire, a bangle of Japanese writing, a snake bracelet, and an array of bullets in an ammo belt. The only place that showed Aaron au naturel was his gaunt face—tan, craggy, and blond—as if he’d spent his life in the outback. He wore a black T-shirt and beige cargo pants. Loafer Vans encased his sockless feet.
Greg Reyburn was a little more discerning in his choice of body pictorials, but his skin still contained enough ink to pen a novelette. He was average height and build. The young man had a head of black curls, high cheekbones, and a pointy chin. His eyes, like those of his fellow traveler, were saggy and red-rimmed. He had on jeans, a black po
lo shirt, and sandals.
Marge had put them into two separate interview rooms. While Scott worked his magic on Greg Reyburn, she’d take Aaron Otis. She brought him a soda and sat down next to him, leaning forward, trying to appear maternal. “You look tired.”
“Exhausted.” Otis took the soda and thanked her. “It’s been a hell of a few days.” He drank greedily. “Between the car repairs and the vacation, I’m flat broke.” He made air quotes over the word “vacation.” “The whole thing was a bust. Plus, now you’re looking at me with voodoo eyes!”
Marge took out a notebook. “Why do you say that?”
“Because Adrianna called me and not Garth. If I would’ve known she was going to die, I would’ve…well, I don’t know what I would’ve done. It’s just creepy. Talking to her and then…you know…it’s creepy.”
Marge nodded.
“I mean, like what happened? She was fine when I spoke to her…I mean like she was pissed off royally, but…like it’s so weird.”
“What do you do for a living, Aaron?”
“Me?”
“Yeah. How do you earn money?”
“I’m a GC.”
“General contractor? Like you build houses?”
“Mostly I’m a framing foreman for bigger companies.”
“Okay.” Was it a coincidence that Adrianna was found in a construction sight? Not that Otis could have done it himself if he was miles away. “How’d you meet Garth?”
“We went to school together. I’ve known him since seventh grade.”
“What can you tell me about him?”
“He’s a good guy…a little vain, but hey, why not?”
“You two are pretty tight?”
“We’re good friends. Good enough for me to be shocked if—” He stopped himself.
Marge said, “Has he contacted you since he took off?”
“No.” A beat. “I’m nervous about that. Where would he go if he didn’t go home?”
“That’s what we’re wondering. We’ve checked the airline manifests. He deplaned at Burbank airport, but we lost track of him after that. He’s your friend. If he wanted to hide out, where do you think he’d go?”
“I don’t know.” He flexed a bicep. His bracelets expanded then contracted. “His family is here. Have you tried them?”
“First thing. His mom thought he was still with you.”
“It looks bad for him…to suddenly disappear.”
“Or it could be something bad happened to him. I’d like to find him to make sure he’s all right.”
Otis’s eyes widened. “You think he’s…dead?”
“Don’t know, Aaron. We know Adrianna was murdered. It would grieve me to think that Garth met with the same fate.”
“Wow.” He scratched his swirling-colored arm. “That’s really weird. I was thinking like…you know…”
“No, I don’t know. Tell me.”
“That you thought Garth was like a suspect. Although I don’t know how he’d do anything. By the time he left Reno, he wouldn’t have enough time.”
Marge didn’t argue. Garth had enough time, but it would have been tight. She said, “Tell me about Garth’s reaction when you told him about Adrianna’s phone call.”
“He was upset.”
“What did he say?”
“I don’t remember his exact words…something like…he hates when she gets like this. He was going to have to go home to talk to her because a phone call won’t cut it.”
“When she gets like this? She’s broken up with him before?”
“Yeah, they fought all the time.”
“About what?”
“Things. Guy/girl things.”
“Can you give me an example?”
“He complained that Adrianna was overbearing…checking up on him too much. And she had no business doing that ’cause she really wasn’t an angel herself.” Otis looked at his lap. “I really shouldn’t talk for Garth.”
“What about her side?”
“I don’t know about her side. I’m friends with Garth.”
“And yet she called you to say that she was leaving him. What does that mean?”
“That she had my phone number and didn’t want to talk to Garth.”
Marge leaned in closer. “It’s more than that. I think Adrianna and you were pretty tight yourselves.”
“Not at all.” Eyes averted.
“Maybe you want to think about that statement, Aaron.” Marge pulled back to give him a little breathing room. “Did you know that Adrianna kept a diary?”
A blush ran through the man’s face. Although Adrianna talked about trysts with other men, she didn’t use names. Marge had no idea if one of the assignations had been with Aaron, but if Otis was like most men, he would deem himself important enough to make an entry.
“Aaron?”
“It wasn’t serious.”
“It was more than a one-night stand,” Marge lied.
“It was a one-night stand that happened maybe three or four times. It meant nothing to either one of us. She’d get mad at Garth and fool around because Garth was fooling around on her.”
“So why didn’t they just break up?”
“Obviously she did break up with him. Or at least was gonna break up with him.”
“What took her so long?”
“I dunno. They’ve been having problems for a while.”
“Well, why do you think Garth stayed with her?”
“Because she was hot. At least that’s what I think.”
“You know that from firsthand experience?”
“C’mon, cut me some slack.”
“She’s dead, Aaron. I need to know everything. Why do you say she was hot?”
The young man seemed to wilt. “She’d do things that a lot of girls wouldn’t do. Nothing was off-limits. Plus, she gave Garth money.”
“She sounds like the perfect girlfriend. Why would he cheat on her?”
A lopsided grin. “’Cause guys are dogs.”
An adequate if not totally fair summation of the opposite sex. But Adrianna had her lapses as well. “If she was so hot, Aaron, why only three or four times?”
“It was her idea to stop.”
“Were you upset by that?”
“Nah, it was cool.”
“So why was she upset if Garth fooled around when she was fooling around?”
“I dunno. I’m tired, Sergeant, I can’t think too clearly right now.”
“Did she tell you why she broke it off with you?”
“She said she’d gotten it out of her system, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m not sure I do know. Explain it to me.”
“Look, Sergeant, I wasn’t the first of her revenge fucks and I wasn’t the last.”
“How do you know about her revenge fucks?”
“’Cause she’d tell me whenever she picked up a guy that Garth didn’t know about.”
“Sounds like you two were good friends if she told you about her love life. Why do you think she confided in you?”
“I dunno. Maybe she thought I’d tell Garth and he’d get jealous.”
“Did you?”
“Hell, no. If I started saying things, I’d be on the chopping block.”
“You think Garth would get pissed at you even though he fooled around?”
“I guess on some level he cared about her. Otherwise, why would he cut his vacation short just to calm her down?”
“I don’t know, Aaron. Frankly, I’m wondering what might have happened if he didn’t calm her down.”
“I don’t know. The whole thing is weird.”
“Maybe the relationship had less to do with sex and more to do with Adrianna giving Garth money. How did you know that Adrianna was financing his excursions to Vegas?”
“I asked him about it…that he always had money for Vegas. He said she gave him spending cash.”
“And what did you say to that?”
“Something like sweet deal or some
shit like that.”
“She worked as a nurse. Where’d she get money to give him?”
“Probably from her mom. Her parents have money.”
“Did she tell you that she got money from her mom?”
“She might have. The point is both of them always had enough cash to buy some drinks and shit and make a party. She loved to party.” His eyes moistened. “It’s horrible, thinking of her hanged to death. Who would do that?”
Marge sighed inwardly. It was a rhetorical question. Still, she could have given him a half-dozen answers and all of them would have been creepy.
“INTERESTING…OTIS being a contractor.” Decker thought a moment. “Is it relevant?”
Marge pulled out a chair and sat down, throwing her head back until she was looking at the ceiling. “I’ll check and see if he had anything to do with the Grossman project where Adrianna was found.”
Oliver said, “Contractors are guilty until proven innocent in my opinion.”
Decker said, “Speaking of which, have you gotten hold of Keith Wald and Chuck Tinsley?”
“I got hold of Wald,” Marge said. “We set something up. Tinsley hasn’t returned my call.” She turned to Oliver. “What does Reyburn do?”
“He’s a grip for WB studios in Burbank.”
“How’d he meet Garth?” Decker asked.
“The three of them were friends from seventh grade on.”
Decker said, “Do you think that if one of them were in trouble, the others might help him out?”
“Three Musketeers’ kind of crap?” Oliver said. “Maybe, although you have to wonder about loyalty when your friend is screwing your girlfriend.”
Marge said, “I’m wondering if Greg Reyburn made it onto Adrianna’s fuck list.”
“Don’t know because I didn’t ask him.”
“Is he still here?” Decker asked.
“No, he left an hour ago. I can ask him, but we know that Adrianna slept around and that Garth sleeps around. One more isn’t going to change the balance sheet.”
Hangman Page 18