Stella and Mattie had prepared a file that contained the photo of Roger Howard with Adrienne and the threatening letter Vasquez had written to her. Things were convoluted right now with this confusion over the Howard versus Vasquez identity issue, and they hoped to get to the bottom of it. Not to mention what role he played in Adrienne’s death.
“Let’s go talk to him,” Stella said. “Do you have a soda or something you could take in there? And you know, be nice to him.”
“Don’t tell me we’re going to play good cop, bad cop.”
Stella grinned and gave a little shrug. “Stay in there with me when I join you. We’ll play it by ear.”
Mattie shrugged. “Okay, I’ll see what we have in the staff fridge. I might have to borrow a can of something from somebody.”
“Do what you have to do.”
Mattie left the ice pack on her desk and told Robo to stay on his dog bed. Soda in hand, she went to the interrogation room, tapping on the door as she entered. Vasquez gave her a hard look.
“I brought you a drink, Mr. Vasquez,” she said. “Do you want it?” She hoped she was being nice enough.
“Has it been opened yet?”
“No.”
“I’ll take it then.”
She set the can down in front of him.
“No telling what you people might put into it,” he said, popping the top. It released with a fizz.
Mattie pasted a pleasant look on her face.
“I want to talk with the guy in charge. This was police brutality,” he said, indicating his swollen jaw.
“Why did you run?” She figured she already knew the answer. Sheriff McCoy had obtained a search warrant, and Robo had found a stash of drug paraphernalia in his home. No drugs, but the equipment to use them. They’d bagged two pairs of cowboy boots and an ashtray full of cigarette butts. Even more important, they’d found a rifle and a compound bow with a supply of arrows and ammo.
Vasquez glowered at her.
Mattie pulled out a chair opposite from him and sat, fanning her hands on the tabletop. “Sheriff McCoy will join us later.”
Stella entered the room and pulled up a chair on Mattie’s side of the table. She placed the file in front of her but didn’t open it. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Vasquez. I had a few things to straighten out.”
He fixed his glare on Stella, so she gave him one of her too-sweet smiles that were so familiar. Mattie turned her attention to Vasquez, studying him while Stella made small talk. He was a handsome man with high cheekbones, a patrician nose, and dark brown hair. He took a sip of his cola, keeping his eyes on Stella over the top of the can.
Moving on, Stella started the interview. “Please tell me how you’re related to Adrienne Howard,” she said. Her demeanor told Mattie that—for now, at least—they were playing good cop, good cop.
“I’m her brother.”
Stella nodded. “We have a photograph of you and Adrienne that Velda Howard identified you in. She told us your name was Roger Howard.”
Vasquez gave a snort of disgust. “That’s the name they gave me.”
Stella paused, but he offered no other information.
“You knew about Adrienne’s death?”
“I found out this morning.”
Stella became very serious. “Who told you?”
“Jack Kelly, a friend of mine. Adrienne’s too.”
“Where does he live?”
“Willow Springs.”
“Where is he employed?”
“Green Thumb Organics.”
Bingo. The place Mattie intended to contact next. She withdrew a note pad from her pocket and recorded the man’s name.
“How did he find out about her death?” Stella asked.
“Hell if I know. You’d have to ask him. Is it true that Adrienne was killed?”
“Yes, it’s true. Her death is under investigation.”
His gaze dropped to the table, and he made a hissing sound, tongue against teeth, as he released his breath. “Shit, man.”
Mattie watched him close his eyes and remain silent, head lowered, for a full minute. When he raised his face, there were no tears and no semblance of surprise. “How can I help you?” he asked.
“You can help by explaining your family to us. How did you come to live with the Howards? This name-change business and so forth,” Stella said.
He grimaced. “It’s a long story, but I’ll keep it short. The family secret.” He drew an audible breath. “In the beginning, I was told that my mother and Velda Howard were best friends, and that when I was a baby, my mother gave me to Velda to raise. I was told that my mother couldn’t afford to keep me, and the Howards took me in out of the goodness of their hearts. They adopted me and named me Roger Howard. Had a birth certificate to prove it. But a few months ago, I learned it was all a lie.”
When his silence lengthened, Stella prompted him. “And what’s the truth?”
“Velda Howard is my birth mother.” His disappointment in that fact was palpable.
Mattie wondered if Vasquez had written the letter to Adrienne before or after the truth came out. “When did you discover this?”
“June tenth. I’ll remember that date until the day I die.”
So it was after the letter. “Did Adrienne know the truth?”
“Oh, yes.” He frowned. “She’s the one who told me. It changed my life completely.”
“I bet it was a shock,” Stella said. “How did the truth come out?”
The frown deepened. “I, uh, sort of lost my way for a while. Adrienne moved from Willow Springs without telling me. She didn’t tell me she was leaving, and she didn’t tell me where she was going. I was, uh, pretty upset.”
“Why?” Stella asked. “What upset you about it?”
He gave Stella an incredulous look. “Wouldn’t you be upset if your sister packed up in the middle of the night and moved away without a word?”
Stella nodded slowly, evidently conceding the point. “Why would Velda Howard lie to you about being your birth mother?”
Pain flickered across Ramon’s face before it hardened again. “I don’t know, I haven’t asked her. Maybe because she considered me her bastard child.”
“Let’s back up for a minute,” Stella said. “Tell me what happened when you graduated from high school. Why did you leave home, and where did you go?”
“The Howards were both alcoholics, and David could be a mean drunk. We never knew what would piss him off or who he was going to hit. He liked to point out that I was Mexican. Called me ‘spick,’ and when he was really drunk, he’d laugh at me and call me Ramon Vasquez. I grew up being taunted with it, but I felt certain that it was my real birth name.” He shrugged and looked down at the table again. “I decided to go to California to look for my birth parents. I knew that Velda lived there before moving to Colorado and marrying David Howard.”
“Did you find your father?” Mattie asked.
“No, but I changed my name legally to Ramon Vasquez, believing that was my real name and my parents might search for me someday. Eventually I moved to Denver and worked there for a few years. Then I moved to Willow Springs.”
“Is that where you reunited with Adrienne?” Stella asked.
“Yes.”
“How did that happen?”
“I worked for Jack Kelly. He knew that my name had once been Roger Howard and that I grew up in Hightower. When Adrienne came in as a customer, he asked her if she was local. After she told him she’d grown up in Hightower, he asked her if we could possibly be related. He put us in touch.”
Stella nodded, encouraging him to continue.
“It seemed like a miracle that we found each other.” Vasquez’s face turned despondent and his eyes grew damp. “She was happy to see me again, too.”
Stella took a plastic sheet that contained the photo of Adrienne and Vasquez from the folder she’d prepared. “When was this picture taken?”
He picked up the photo and stared at it. “Where did
you get this?”
“Adrienne’s photo album.”
“Can I have a copy of it?”
“We’ll see. When was it taken?”
“In April, right before she left Willow Springs. We went on a picnic and saw the ruins at Mesa Verde. We asked another tourist to take it for us.” Vasquez appeared to be lost in the memory.
“And Adrienne left Willow Springs shortly after that picture was taken?” Stella asked. “Why?”
He shrugged, still looking at the picture as if he couldn’t take his eyes off it. “She’d broken up with a guy there, a realtor. She was unhappy and decided a change would do her good. But I didn’t find this out until we talked again in June, so I wasn’t exactly sure what was going on at the time.”
“Were you afraid she’d become a victim of foul play?”
“Nah. She packed her things, took her car. I found out she’d given notice to her landlord. I figured she’d decided to move away and start over.”
“So you traced Adrienne to Timber Creek,” Stella said. “What happened then?”
“I wrote her a letter, asking her if we could see each other.” He shifted in his seat.
Stella slipped another plastic sheet out of her folder, this one containing the letter. “Is this the letter you sent?”
His face flushed and he hung his head. “Oh God . . .”
Mattie and Stella both waited, observing Vasquez’s response.
Finally, he raised his head, looking from Stella to Mattie. His face had lost its redness, leaving it pinched with sorrow. “This is what I meant when I said I lost my way.”
“Explain it to me, Mr. Vasquez,” Stella said in a quiet voice.
He raised a hand slightly in a gesture of helplessness. “What’s to explain? It’s pretty clear. I fell in love with her, and I asked her to marry me. This was before I knew we were half siblings. I still thought we had no blood relationship.”
“That must have been hard when you found out.”
“I was devastated.”
“How did you find out?”
“Like I said, Adrienne told me.”
“How did she know?”
“She discovered it when she was about to leave home. She searched for her birth certificate so that she could take it with her. She found my original birth certificate, the one that was issued before David Howard adopted me. When you’re adopted, they reissue a birth certificate with your new name and parents. According to Adrienne, my original birth certificate listed Velda Jane Miller as my birth mother—Miller being Velda Howard’s maiden name. She realized that we shared a birth mother. The line for my father’s name had been left blank.”
“Why didn’t she tell you all this when you were first reunited?” Mattie asked.
“I asked her that very question. She said she didn’t want to bring me any pain or reopen old wounds. She hated that I had no biological father listed on the document. Thought it would hurt my feelings.” He bowed his head, shaking it sadly. “If only she’d known the pain she could’ve spared me by telling me then.”
“What was your original birth name?” Mattie asked.
Ramon gave a shrug of resignation. “That’s the crazy part. Velda named me Ramon Miller. So I was right about Ramon being my birth name, but I still don’t know why David chose the name Vasquez to tease me with. I should ask her . . . if I can ever stomach seeing her again.”
“When did you see Adrienne last?” Stella asked.
“On June tenth.” He locked eyes with Stella. “She called me as soon as she received this letter and arranged for us to meet. That’s when she broke the news to me.”
“I would have been pretty mad if someone had withheld such important information from me,” Stella said.
He shrugged. “Adrienne thought she was doing the right thing.”
“So you saw her on June tenth. Did you continue to communicate with each other?”
“We talked on the phone once in a while.”
“Were you aware that she’d developed a new relationship here in Timber Creek?”
Vasquez raised his brows and touched his jaw. “That cop that hit me?”
Mattie felt certain that Vasquez must have known Adrienne was involved with someone else. “What did you know about her beginning a new relationship?”
“She said she had a boyfriend. I didn’t know who it was.”
“How did you feel about her having a boyfriend?” Stella asked.
“It hurt. But I knew it was for the best. I worked at being happy for her.”
“And you? Have you moved on?”
“The best I can.” He stared at Stella, daring her to pursue it further.
She did. “Where were you last week on Wednesday and Thursday?”
“I was home.”
She waited, but when he didn’t offer anything else, she continued. “Working?”
“No.”
“Were you with someone who can confirm your whereabouts?”
“No.”
“Give me more details, Mr. Vasquez. I need a picture of what you were doing on those two days last week.”
He paused. “I was home, taking some time off. Alone.”
“Can you prove you were there? Can anyone vouch that they saw you?”
He hunched forward, shoulders rounded. “I holed up last week and didn’t go out much.”
“Were you using that crack pipe we found?” Mattie asked.
He looked from Stella to Mattie. “It’s a relic from my past. A friend gave it to me. It has nothing to do with anything.”
“You wrote this letter a few short months ago. Not long after, your world turned upside down. You were aware that Adrienne was moving on. You say that you were moving on, too, but I don’t believe you,” Stella said.
He clamped his lips shut.
“You’ve been very forthcoming, Mr. Vasquez,” Stella said. “Now you need to think hard and tell me what you can prove about where you were and what you were doing last week.”
“Am I a suspect?” Vasquez said, acting incredulous.
“I think you know more than you’re saying.”
“You think I know more than you do? I can’t believe that.”
“What do you know about your sister’s death?” Stella asked.
“Nothing!” He squirmed in his chair.
“Can you prove where you were last Wednesday?”
“I can’t.”
“Have you ever gone hunting up in the mountains, Mr. Vasquez?” Stella asked, going a different direction.
Mattie kept her eyes on Vasquez.
“Of course. What does that have to do with anything?”
“Rifle or bow hunting?”
“Both.”
“Did you know that your sister liked to hike?” Stella asked.
“We both do. We’ve hiked together many times.”
“Did she like to hunt? Did you ever go hunting together?”
“No. Adrienne had no interest in hunting.”
“Do you think Adrienne might have gone along on a hunting trip with someone, just to enjoy being outdoors?”
He reacted without pause. “Never. She wouldn’t want to be in a hunting camp. She might like to go hiking and camping, but she wouldn’t have anything to do with shooting or killing animals of any kind.”
“Do you own a horse?”
“No.” His tone reflected his impatience.
“Do you have a friend in Willow Springs or Hightower that owns a horse?”
He shook his head in disbelief. “Why are you asking me all these things?”
“Please answer the question, Mr. Vasquez,” Stella said, her tone mirroring his level of impatience.
“Yes, I have several friends in both places who own horses. What of it?”
“Do you know how your sister died?” Stella asked.
“I don’t. How many times do I have to tell you?”
Stella leaned back in her seat and paused for a moment. “She was shot.”
Va
squez appeared to take it hard. He bent forward, closing in on himself. Mattie noticed that the detective had withheld the exact cause of death: shot by an arrow.
“Wuh . . . was it an accident?” he asked with a slight stammer.
“That’s under investigation,” Stella said.
He bowed his head for a moment and then looked back at Stella. “Did she go hunting or something? Is that why you asked all those questions?”
“I can’t say at this time. Do you think it could be a possibility?”
“I don’t. But I can’t believe someone would shoot Adrienne on purpose. It must’ve been an accident.” He searched Stella’s face, his eyes turning fierce. “Is that what happened here? Did someone shoot her on purpose?”
“Like I said before, Mr. Vasquez, her death is under investigation.” Stella gave him a penetrating look. “Did you kill your sister?”
“My God! Absolutely not!”
“Would you be willing to take a polygraph?”
“If that would eliminate me as a suspect, yes. You should be finding the person who shot Adrienne, not wasting time on me.”
“I believe we can arrange for a polygraph by tomorrow. We’re holding you for possession of drug paraphernalia tonight. We’ve got a nice, clean cell you can sleep in.”
Belligerence came back into his face. “You’re making a mistake. Between this and police brutality, you’re gonna be sorry.”
“I’ll get Deputy Johnson to book him,” Mattie said, standing to leave the room.
After Johnson took Vasquez to the back, Stella looked at Mattie. “What do you think?” she asked.
“Convincing reactions,” Mattie said. “I’m not positive that he killed her.”
“Twisted story,” Stella said. “I’m not yet convinced that he didn’t.”
Chapter 23
Cole drove through town in time to follow the school bus to his lane. He stopped his truck behind it, waiting for his kids to unload. After it pulled away, he turned in behind them, making Sophie hop with excitement when she saw him. Angie’s reaction was much less exuberant, but at least she gave a smile to her old dad.
He hit the button to roll down the window. “You girls want a ride?”
“Not supposed to ride with strangers,” Sophie said with a grin.
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