As Lin became engrossed in her research she forgot about the time. It was well past midnight when she finally shut down the computer and slipped into the bedroom. Neal was obviously in deep sleep; his steady, gentle breathing lulled her as she slipped into the bed beside him soon to drift off herself. “We’ll talk in the morning,” she told herself as sleep overtook her.
***
A bright shaft of sunlight crossed Lin’s face bringing her out of her half-sleep into full consciousness. She looked at the clock. It was well past eight; she’d slept longer than usual, perhaps because she was up late on the computer. Listening for sounds of Neal moving about revealed nothing but silence. Perhaps he was on the patio. Lin got up and headed out to check. Both the casita and the patio were empty—so much for talking.
Ambling into the small kitchen she did find a pot of fresh coffee on the counter with a note beside it.
Gone down to the museum with Chris to meet with Pete Tedder. Trying to finalize our work here. We’ll probably stay and continue work on the cataloging for a while.
See you later,
Neal
Lin didn’t quite know what to make of the note. At least he hadn’t left her wondering where he was or what he was doing but there was no hint of wanting to talk and no expression of affection like he usually included in such missives. I guess he’s still angry Lin thought. Well, sooner or later—hopefully sooner, we have to talk about this issue. Lin determined that she would try to address this rift between them when Neal did return. Meanwhile, she needed to find something to distract herself, something to do so that she wouldn’t just sit and worry about the state of their relationship. She loved Neal and she felt he loved her, but she wanted their relationship to be based on mutual trust and respect—above all they had to be able to talk honestly with each other and reach compromises when necessary.
Putting her more troubled thoughts aside, Lin decided to tackle the questions regarding the murder cases once more. She wanted to gather more information about Doug Davison and about the blue truck. Those seemed like logical places to start and she did have contact information for both widows. She headed for the shower, thinking about her plan for the morning.
Within the hour, Lin was seated on the shady side of the patio at a nearby coffee shop with a toasted bagel and cup of dark roast. It was still early enough to enjoy being outside. She briefly perused the morning paper and then reached for her cell phone. Earlier she’d called Marla Dawkins to see if she would like to join her for breakfast only to discover that Marla had already eaten earlier and had decided to go shopping. She seemed just a bit distant and even mentioned that she was considering returning the next day to Flagstaff since Chris was no longer a likely suspect in these cases, and he’d told her he would be driving home on Tuesday or Wednesday at the latest. “I think I may head back early; I left in a hurry and there’s a lot I need to do at home,” Marla had said.
It seemed to Lin that Marla was backing off from her earlier interest in the truth behind these deaths. Most likely Chris had shared with her concerns about becoming overly involved and not leaving the questions strictly to the authorities. Lin felt sure that Neal and Chris had talked about this and it bothered her a bit. She tried to shake off these concerns. Locating the number for Doug Davison’s widow she punched it in. She was delighted when someone answered almost immediately.
“Ms. Davison?” Lin asked. Receiving an affirmative answer she continued, “I’m Lin Hanna, John Manuel gave me your contact information. Let me say how sorry I am to learn of your loss. I only met Doug briefly but he certainly seemed to be a dedicated young man. I stopped by your home yesterday to inquire about the blue truck Doug bought but you weren’t home.” Lin hoped that approaching in this way would be less threatening. Perhaps Ms. Davison might think her interested in the truck for herself or something. She didn’t want to lie about her intentions but … .
“Oh, thank you for your kind words, please call me Susan,” Davison replied in a friendly tone. “I really don’t know much about the truck I’m afraid. I’d invite you to come out again to see it but I really have to go into Tucson to pick up some papers and some things from the Sheriff’s office—Doug’s er…belongings and some stuff about his…” her voice seemed to choke a bit. “In fact I was almost out the door when you called—the sitter just got here.”
“I understand, Susan,” Lin had a quick thought, “Do you have any plans after you pick up those things? Maybe we could have lunch somewhere and talk then?” Lin was eager to meet the young woman.
“Well, I suppose I could do that. I could tell you what I know about the truck but I don’t have any papers on it or anything. I’m not sure where Doug might’ve put them…”
“That’s OK. I’ll call Mrs. Garcia and find out if she knows anything at all. I’d like to talk to you anyway, if that’s OK with you?” Lin responded.
Susan agreed and they made a plan to meet at a small Mexican restaurant she knew about that would be convenient for both of them. After talking to Susan Davison, Lin felt a good bit better. She realized she’d really begun the day down in the dumps about the state of her relationship with Neal, but now she actually had something concrete to focus on. Perhaps Susan Davison would be willing to share more information about her husband and his involvement in the issues surrounding construction of the shopping center—his relationships with Dave Jennings and Mark Garcia. Maybe she was being overly optimistic, but Susan Davison had seemed open and friendly so she hoped for the best.
Her next call was to Mark Garcia’s widow. She also was at home but seemed more guarded about talking. Lin asked her about the truck but all she offered was that she’d sold it to Doug Davison who paid her $1200 in cash because she really needed the money. She did say that the truck had been registered and had a tag on it when it was sold, but she didn’t recall the number and she’d given all the paperwork on the truck to Davison. “That’s all I can tell you,” Ms. Garcia said, “You’ll have to ask Susan Davison about it.” With that she’d ended the conversation.
Well, at least Lin had learned that the truck did have a tag. If Susan could find those papers perhaps more could be learned about the truck. The workman who reported seeing it didn’t note a tag number, nor did his description have many details; however, Lin would like to talk to him again, perhaps given more details about the vehicle, he would remember more himself. Besides, she’d really like to know why Doug Davison might’ve removed the license plate.
Feeling more relaxed and confident, Lin turned to the next burning question on her mind. What information did authorities have about the murder weapon? She wasn’t sure how to approach this one, but she happened to think that David Cameron might know something. He’d spoken with authorities when he came down from Flagstaff to help Chris Dawkins. Lin had his personal cell number as well as his office number from earlier days when he’d represented a Hopi youth whose family Lin had helped when she was volunteering at Wupatki National Monument. As today was Friday, she tried his office first only to learn that he’d taken the day off to go hiking with friends.
That’s disappointing, Lin thought. She tried his cell number but the call went straight to voice mail—indicating it was either off or he was out of signal range. Where to turn next? Lin recalled that David Cameron had turned information over to an attorney friend here in Tucson in case Chris needed further help, perhaps he would have all the information David had. What was his name? Rich something, but Lin couldn’t recall a last name. She quickly called Cameron’s office again and spoke with his office assistant.
“David has a friend here in Tucson who agreed to help him with a case,” she told the secretary, “I think his name was Rich but I can’t recall the last name right now.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know right off the bat who you’re talking about,” the woman said, “I may be able to help though. I assume Rich is short for Richard and I could look through Mr. Cameron’s desk file of contacts but it would take a few minutes. Ca
n I call you back? I’ll do my best but will call back in any case shortly.”
Lin agreed to this plan feeling it was her best chance to get the information. She knew that Chris would have the contact information, maybe Marla also, but she really didn’t want to contact them at this point. She realized her inquiries hadn’t really netted her any concrete answers as yet and she certainly didn’t plan to share anything until she had something specific that might actually be meaningful. If she didn’t come up with any such information, she would simply forget about all this. She knew this would be hard to do, but she really wouldn’t have a choice if she couldn’t learn anything more. I guess that would, at least, make Neal happy, she mused, but she would be disappointed herself.
Lin still had an hour until time to meet Susan Davison. The desert sun was beginning to shine directly onto the coffee shop’s patio and the day was definitely going to be a scorcher so she decided to go inside. She got a refill on her iced coffee and settled down in a quiet corner to enjoy the AC and wait to hear from David Cameron’s office. She’d almost finished her drink when the phone finally rang.
“I think the man you’re looking for must be Richard Lafferty,” David’s secretary announced. “He’s the only Richard I can find with a Tucson address. Do you want his number?”
Indeed she did. Lin grabbed a notepad from her bag and jotted down the information. As soon as the secretary hung up she punched in the office number for Richard Lafferty, hoping he was available because that was the only number she’d been given.
A receptionist answered her call and politely told her that Mr. Lafferty was in but was with a client at that time.
“Could you please have him call me as soon as he is free?” Lin asked, “I won’t take much of his time but I do need to speak with him right away. It’s concerning a case he agreed to help David Cameron with. She gave the receptionist her cell number and then sat back to wait some more. She hoped her message seemed urgent enough to warrant a quick call back. Meanwhile it was approaching the time when she’d agreed to meet Susan so she decided to head toward the restaurant.
The Tucson Tamale Company’s location on Oracle Rd. was about a ten-minute drive from the coffee shop. Lin hadn’t been there but she’d heard the green corn tamales were wonderful and she looked forward to her lunch. When she arrived she saw a young woman already seated and reviewing the menu. “Are you Susan Davison?” Lin asked as she approached.
“Yes, yes I am, and you must be Lin,” the young woman rose to greet her. It appeared that she’d been crying.
“I really appreciate your taking the time to meet with me,” Lin smiled, “I know this is a difficult time for you.” She sat down opposite Susan in the small booth.
“Oh, that’s OK, “ Susan replied, shuffling a stack of papers she’d been looking at. “I finished early at the jail so I decided to look at these papers while I waited for you to come. I’m afraid that reading about Doug’s death is more difficult that I was prepared for. These reports from the medical examiner are so detailed…so real.” She seemed to be choking back more tears as she spoke. Lin decided it might be best to change the subject although she was actually dying to know what the examiner’s report might say. Sharing the information though would have to be entirely Susan’s decision.
The waitress had arrived to take their order. They both ordered the green corn tamales and cups of iced tea. “While we wait maybe you can tell me what you do know about the truck,” Lin said, taking care not to indicate any specific interest in buying it. “I spoke with Ms. Garcia, Mark’s wife, and she said that she knew the tag was on it and she had given Doug all of the registration papers, title, etc. She’d signed and he’d said he would take care of making the changes. “
“Then I’ll just have to keep looking for the information. I don’t think Doug had time to change the paperwork, he only drove the truck once that I can recall—last Saturday. He said he was coming here to Tucson to meet with someone from Lancer about the shopping mall project. Doug wanted them to stop building it but he said he might have to settle for having the company fund a small museum in Sells instead. I think that was what he was going to meet about.”
Lin tried to digest what Susan was saying. On the one hand, she’d indicated that Doug did drive the truck and was coming to meet someone in Tucson on the same day that Dave Jennings was killed. On the other hand, the fact that he was coming to discuss building a museum with someone meant he might be getting ready to tone down his militancy regarding the construction of the mall. The fact that the license plates that had to have still been on the truck were now missing didn’t look good though. Why remove them unless one didn’t want the truck to be identified as having been at the construction site? Lin felt puzzled, but she continued to ask some questions about the make and model of the truck, it’s general condition, etc. Finally, Susan asked her if she were interested in buying the truck.
“I really can’t make that decision,” Lin hedged. “My fiancé expressed some interest in getting a used truck for his work at archeological sites, but I’m really just trying to gather information at this point. Besides, we’d have to have all the paperwork first…”
“I do understand, I’ll keep looking for it and let you know if I find it,” Susan replied. Their food arrived and for the next few minutes their conversation was limited to small talk while they enjoyed the succulent tamales.
Then, to Lin’s surprise but delight, Susan turned to the subject of her husband’s death. “I don’t want to burden you with my concerns,” Susan said, “but I really have been wanting to talk to someone about Doug. I don’t have any family here and I’m not really close to any of my neighbors. I’m afraid my husband wasn’t always the most popular person in the community. We didn’t see many people socially, and I was usually at home with our son most days. I just can’t accept the idea that Doug murdered anyone…I know what they’re saying now. In some ways he was an angry young man. He felt passionately about his causes and I suspect he may have sometimes overdone things but still—murder? It just doesn’t fit.”
Lin reached across and offered Susan a sympathetic hand. “You don’t really know me and I only met Doug briefly, but if you want to talk, I’m a good listener and I have the time.”
Susan smiled, “I don’t think I could ever accept what they are saying about Doug killing Mark Garcia and Dave Jennings, but I guess I might believe he did kill himself. Maybe, he just couldn’t face being accused of murder and then…” Susan hesitated, “…there were some other problems.”
“What kind of problems? ” Lin ventured to ask.
Susan hesitated for a moment but then spoke softly, “Doug sometimes used drugs—just recreationally I think—but he did have some dealings with some of the drug people on the reservation—I—er—I’m afraid he might’ve sold some stuff to some of the kids, and there were some pretty shady looking characters that came by our house to see him from time to time. Doug wouldn’t talk to me about it, just said not to worry he could handle himself but---I did worry.”
Lin nodded empathetically, hoping Susan would continue.
Susan was silent for a time and then turned to ask, “Do you know anything about medical reports like these? I’ve tried to read this, but I don’t understand all of what I’m reading. They said Doug hanged himself in his cell and hanging was his cause of death, but the report talks about other injuries that I don’t understand.”
Lin recalled a previous occasion on which she’d read a report on the death of a young woman in North Carolina. “I’m not an expert, but I have read such a report before—just once though. What bothers you?”
Susan picked up several sheets of forms and handed them to Lin. “If you don’t mind please look at these and see what you think. It looks like the doctor is saying that Doug’s wrists and hands were rubbed raw…”
Lin took the sheets and began to read. There was a lot of routine information that indicated death was from hanging, but then there was a notation rega
rding raw patches on the skin of the hands and wrists consistent with a handcuffed prisoner struggling. The examiner noted that the patches appeared to be fresh and there was no evidence of any healing. Lin scanned further down and learned that when the body arrived at the morgue, it was fully clothed in a jail jump suit but there was no mention of any handcuffs. Lin thought for a moment and then it hit her—a handcuffed prisoner couldn’t very well manage to hang himself, and besides, prisoners in their cells weren’t generally cuffed. Wounds from a struggle while handcuffed would have most likely occurred during an arrest or while being transported. Doug Davison had been arrested the day prior to his death and likely at least some healing would’ve begun. Doug Davison’s wounds were still raw—a dead person cannot heal—it seemed Doug was handcuffed at the time of his death and that meant he didn’t commit suicide.
Chapter 10
Lin was stunned thinking about the conclusion she’d derived from the report. She knew she was certainly no expert, but she also felt fairly certain that there were issues in the report that Susan Davison might raise in requesting a further investigation into her husband’s death. She didn’t want to push the young woman; however, she understood her questions and felt that someone with expertise needed to provide some answers.
“I see what you’re concerned about, I think,” Lin ventured. “From this report it looks as if Doug was handcuffed at some point and struggled enough to cause raw abrasions on his wrists and hands.”
“Yes, that seems clear,” Susan agreed, “and the examiner said no healing had occurred and I don’t understand what that means.”
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