by Joseph Flynn
Chapter 21
Just outside of police headquarters, John Tall Wolf had a question for Ron Ketchum.
“Can you give me a description of the timer and detonator you found on that bomb out on the lake?”
The chief didn’t think he’d ever forget the image of that damn thing counting down what he’d thought would be the last seconds of his life. He saw Tall Wolf take a small audio recorder out of his brief case. The guy was confident he’d get an answer.
That was okay. The special agent had proved to be something of an original thinker. He had Ron accepting the idea there might be a whole new reason for Tibbot getting killed. One that still could fit with an ecological zealot going off the deep end.
Some greedy bastards are going to ruin all this beauty? They think they’re going to dig gold out of the mountain? Well, I’ll spoil things for everybody. Contaminate the whole area.
Only how did that fit with the idea that the bomb might have been a hoax?
He didn’t know, but he’d play along with Tall Wolf for the moment.
The chief closed his eyes and told the special agent the size, shape and features of the timer-detonator. He finished by saying, “The numerals on the timer were green. I thought when they got to zero it would turn red and then adios, amigo.”
Ron opened his eyes and asked Tall Wolf, “Why’d you want to know that?”
“I put myself in your place, wondered what I might have done. Thought it might be a good idea to know what a pro would recommend. You know, just in case there’s a repeat performance. Nice thing about being a fed, I can reach out to people with all sorts of specialties.”
“A repeat performance?” Ron said. “Jesus.”
The chief didn’t know if he could go through that again.
“One more thing,” Tall Wolf said. “You towed in the boat that held the bomb, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So somebody else could have towed it out onto the lake,” Tall Wolf said.
“That was my thought,” Ron told him.
“Yeah, but one guy with two boats would be more obvious than —”
“Two guys, each with his own boat.”
“Just another thought to consider,” Tall Wolf said. “Feel free to share it with Retired Detective Powell.”
Tall Wolf lifted his chin and Ron saw Keely coming their way.
She’d had to make a porcelain detour on the way out of the building.
“What are you going to do now?” Ron asked.
“Have breakfast and then follow up on a suggestion Herbert Wilkins offered me. He said I should see who was suing Hale Tibbot.”
Ron Ketchum was four weeks out from his last haircut, so he had some credibility when he walked into Locks & Bangs and asked if Veronika Novak had an opening. The shop’s owner, Sarita Levy, was thrilled at the prospect of having the chief of police become a regular customer. She said she thought Veronika was just finishing up adding color to a client’s hair.
“I don’t want to intrude,” Ron said.
Sarita smiled at him. “The color has to sit for thirty minutes.”
“Oh,” Ron said.
“You didn’t know, huh?”
“Learn a new thing every day.”
The shop owner said, “May I?”
The chief didn’t know what was being asked of him but he took the risk. “Okay.”
Sarita ran her fingers through the hair on one side of his head and then the other. Made him tingle. He did his best not to show it.
“You don’t need any color yet. But when you do, we’ll be happy to touch you up.”
“Thanks,” Ron said, the thought of going gray ending all his tingling.
He had a seat while Sarita went to speak with Veronika. The two women approached him a moment later and he got to his feet. Veronika gave him a critical appraisal, as if she was looking for something more than a cowlick.
She nodded and said, “Yes, I think I have the time.”
The shop owner gave Ron’s hand a squeeze and told him, “Your cut is on me in gratitude for your bravery on Lake Adeline.”
Veronika didn’t look all that grateful, Ron thought. He told Sarita, “Thank you, but department policy doesn’t allow me to accept gratuities. If you like, I can pay you and you can donate the money to your favorite charity.”
That earned him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll do just that. Please feel free to tip Veronika.”
“I will.”
Veronika shampooed Ron’s hair, toweled it and brought him to her chair. She looked him over, front and back. She asked, “Would you like to keep your part where you had it?”
The chief fleetingly thought she was messing with him.
Could she know why he was there?
“What do you think?” he asked.
“I think you might like to try the other side. It might suit the shape of your face better.”
“Let’s try it then.”
She got to work, combing and trimming, measuring and snipping. Ron was not about to question her while she was standing behind him with a pair of pointed scissors in her hand. He watched the reflection of a new hairstyle take shape in the mirror in front of him. A whole new look really. He liked it. Veronika was meticulous in her work, making sure every detail was perfect.
She finished him up with her hair dryer and her brush.
Keely had told Ron she wanted him to have the experience of Veronika cutting his hair. That way he could compare what she’d done for him to what she’d done to the late Hale Tibbot. The experience wouldn’t be anything he could take into court, but he’d know whether he thought she was their witness.
Just in case the photo of Veronika in her period costume at her work station wasn’t enough for him. After the cut, Ron was positive the stylist had given Tibbot his postmortem styling.
She held up a mirror so Ron could see the back of his head.
“Good?” she said.
“Perfect.” The chief got to his feet. He handed her a twenty-dollar tip and his business card. “I’ll need to talk with you when you finish your workday. There will be an officer waiting for you. He’ll give you a ride to headquarters.”
The color drained from Veronika’s face.
“Are you arresting me?”
“No, I’m making sure no one hurts you.”
She gave a sob and collapsed against Ron, throwing her arms around his neck.
Sarita Levy hurried over.
Seeing things were serious, she said, “Don’t worry, honey, whatever it is. I’ll take the rest of your shift.” Talking to Ron she asked, “Is she going to need a lawyer?”
Ron told her, “Maybe just a friend.”
He handed Sarita the money for his haircut and led Veronika out.
John Tall Wolf was having a late breakfast at the Head in the Clouds Diner. Before he went to examine the civil suit filings against Hale Tibbot, he checked the online edition of the Goldstrike Prospector to see what was new in town. He was reading a story on the firebombing of the Jade Emperor construction site when Officer Cuyler Doran stopped by the special agent’s table and extended a hand. Tall Wolf shook it.
“You did a fine job cleaning my Winchester,” Doran said.
“Just rebuffed the shine you had on it,” Tall Wolf said, closing his laptop. “Buy you a cup of coffee or breakfast if you’re hungry?”
“Thanks.” Doran took a seat. “I don’t mind a bite when I get off work.”
Tall Wolf had just finished his bowl of rolled oats with cinnamon and was working on his fruit plate. Doran ordered ham and eggs. Coffee black.
“You find what you were looking for this morning?” Doran asked.
“Not yet, but I keep getting new ideas.”
Doran smiled and shook his head. “That’s why I never want to be a detective. I don’t like mysteries. I like to work with what’s in front of me.”
“You hunt, don’t you?” Tall Wolf asked.
“Yeah, but that’s game we’re talking
about. I hope I’m smarter than something that walks on all fours.”
Tall Wolf chuckled. “Most of the people detectives chase aren’t much more intelligent. Occasionally, though …”
The special agent paused to examine a new thought.
He’d been about to say even bright people could outsmart themselves.
Then they had to go back and start over.
Doran’s breakfast came and he waited patiently for his dining companion to return to the here-and-now.
When Tall Wolf rejoined him, Doran said, “You see that, my mind doesn’t work like yours. I know perspiration way better than inspiration.”
“Muscle has its place,” Tall Wolf said. “You know anything about the firebombing at the Jade Emperor?”
The Goldstrike copper looked around. Nobody appeared to be listening in on their conversation but he lowered his voice. “That car that blew up right before the hotel got hit?”
“It was expensive, wasn’t it? Probably something fast and powerful. Burned lots of gas.”
Doran said, “You hear that from the sarge?”
Tall Wolf shook his head. “It just fits with what I was thinking.”
Doran said, “Damn, I might like it if my brain clicked that fast. The car was a new Dodge Viper with something like seven hundred horsepower and goes for more than a hundred grand.”
“So it was stolen,” Tall Wolf said.
Doran looked at him and said, “Right. What else you got in your crystal ball?”
“I’m tempted to say it came from Las Vegas, but maybe it was closer. Reno?”
“Not bad,” Doran said. “You almost hit the daily double. The car was sent special order from a Dodge dealer in Vegas to one in Carson City, right down the road from Reno. A man ordered it for himself. His wife found out and said no way. The guy paid the return shipping charges so nobody’s nose got too bent out of place at first, but while the car was waiting to be trucked back to Sin City, it was stolen off the lot.”
“You know the name of the man who ordered the car?” Tall Wolf asked.
Doran nodded. “Probably wouldn’t have remembered except it was that guy who found the bomb out on Lake Adeline: Roger Sutherland.”
Tall Wolf made sure he kept a straight face. “When did that information come in?”
“Right when my shift was being dismissed. Little while ago.”
So Ron Ketchum hadn’t known while Tall Wolf was talking with him.
Doran finished his ham and eggs while the special agent was still working on his fruit. The patrol officer offered his thanks for the meal and said he had to get home to bed. The waitress came by and gave Tall Wolf the check but said there was no hurry.
Tall Wolf used the license to idle to sort out his standing with the Goldstrike PD. Doran had said the sarge knew about Roger Sutherland and the Viper that got blown up. It was likely the sergeant had been the first cop in town to know.
The special agent hadn’t meant to put Sergeant Stanley’s nose out of joint by asking him to step out of the chief’s office while he discussed his ideas with Ron Ketchum and Keely Powell. But he could have handled it better.
He knew there would be fences to mend if he wanted to be kept in the PD’s loop. Otherwise, the good sergeant might tell the chief what he needed to know in a nick-of-time fashion, leaving no time to inform condescending feds.
Cooperation between law enforcement agencies was a wonderful idea, but it wasn’t always the easiest thing to manage. Fortunately —
His phone rang and another long arm of the law was heard from.
“Special Agent Tall Wolf? The is Special Agent Benjamin.”
John was tempted to ask if he might call her Abra, but he decided he’d better not irritate anyone else.
“Yes?”
“We should talk.”
“Just the two of us?”
“For the moment. Where can we meet?”
Tall Wolf decided she could join him in his paper chase.
He told her, “The Alta County Courthouse.”
Ron sat with Veronika Novak at a café table outside the Muni Complex’s restaurant. Several major fast food chains had offered small fortunes for the right to establish a franchise in the town’s center of government. Mayor Steadman had turned all of them down. He brought in a young chef whose family had owned a restaurant in Santa Barbara for eighty years. She’d been packing the place since day one.
The chief figured a chat at a café table with a bite to eat and a view of the lake would work better than a Q&A in an interview room or even a conversation in his office. Only problem was, Veronika wasn’t hungry and she started to shiver as soon as they sat down, even though the sun was shining and the temperature held steady at seventy degrees. The chief had Sergeant Stanley bring a female officer’s uniform jacket from the building. Total pro that he was, Caz draped it over Veronika’s shoulders, let her wrap herself in it.
There, they were on the same team.
“You can start whenever you’re ready,” Ron told her.
The young woman didn’t pretend she had no idea of what he meant.
“I knew Hale wasn’t going to marry me,” Veronika said. “The new prenup is never saying ‘I do.’ A rich guy won’t even cohabit full time because that old palimony thing just might work these days. Even if it doesn’t, it’s a guaranteed hassle. Cheaper just to pay the babe off. A lot cheaper to draw firm boundaries up front. That’s what Hale did. So I knew.”
“Always best to understand your circumstances,” Ron said.
“Have you been married?”
“Yes.”
“I’ve seen your hands. You don’t wear a ring. Who filed the divorce papers?”
“It was a mutual decision, but I did.”
“Did you feel better about that?”
“No. The regret was mutual, too.”
The chief understood he had to share to build empathy, but he’d take things only so far.
Veronika said, “I’m sorry for you then. Sometimes it’s nobody’s damn fault.”
“What were you hoping for?” Ron asked.
“Not a happy ending, but a … a pleasing one. Something with a nice parting gift for all the fun times and never any hassle. A gesture, I guess you’d call it. Something in keeping with his place in the world, you know.”
“A condo?” Ron asked.
“A nice one. Maybe a new car lease every other year.”
“Health and dental insurance?”
Veronika laughed. “You’re making fun of me now, but that is something to think about.” She shivered and drew the jacket tighter around her. “Especially after what I saw.”
“You’re ready to talk about it?”
“You gonna let me go if I don’t?”
“Explaining yourself protects you from both what you saw and potential legal liability. It’s really in your best interest that we clear things up now.”
“I think about what I saw any time I don’t force myself to concentrate on my work. But what you just said, you think I had something to do with Hale dying?”
“I don’t know. I’m hoping you’ll tell me.”
Ron was a natural at playing the good cop.
He could do the bad cop, too, when needed.
“I didn’t,” Veronika said, “have anything to do with him dying. My heart broke when I saw him in that chair, dead, his hair all out of place. It never even looked that bad the first thing in the morning when he got up.”
Ron thought everyone saw the world through her own lens.
“I mean, it was just my bad luck I was there at all.”
“How’s that?” Ron asked.
“Well, at any one time, there are three of us, were three of us that Hale saw regularly. Sometimes he’d reach back for a golden oldie, but the problem with them was they were older. That night, it was just my turn.”
“Hold on to it being your turn for a minute,” Ron said. “Do you know how many friends Hale Tibbot had at any given time?”
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“No. I don’t think Trish or Nessa do either.”
“They’re the other two current ladies?”
“We think of ourselves as girls. Ladies sounds like grandmas or hookers. Yeah, they’re the other two. But you know who would know? Glynnis. I bet she could tell you how many times the bedsprings bounce every night.”
“How could she … Does she have any type of recorder set up in Mr. Tibbot’s house?” Ron asked. God, he thought, if it was a video system, there might be pictures of the killer.
Veronika said, “I can’t swear to that. All I know is she knows way too much for somebody who goes home early.”
Ron got down to the central point of the interview. “Did you see anyone in Hale Tibbot’s house on the night he died?”
“Not in, no. Hale was downstairs in his office. One of his rules was that none of his girls ever went in there. I never did because I thought things would work out better for me to keep him happy. I was upstairs in his bedroom, well, in the master bath, actually. I thought he’d come up and we could enjoy a soak before we went to bed.”
“You didn’t hear anyone enter the house after you and Mr. Tibbot were in your respective rooms.”
“No. Truth is, I fell asleep in the bath. I had my head resting against this cushion thingy so I wouldn’t fall in and drown or something. I’d left this one little light on for romantic ambience but when I woke up it was dark. Bulb must have burned out.”
“What woke you up?” Ron asked.
“The water had gone … well not cold but tepid, and the jets were off. Maybe the power had blinked off for a minute. Anyway, the bath didn’t feel good anymore. Then I heard the front door opening. I thought where the hell was Hale going in the middle of the night. I got out of the tub, put on a robe and peeked out a bedroom window.”
“That was when you saw someone,” Ron said.
Veronika nodded. “Yes. A man. He looked back at the house. I was scared he’d come back in because he was looking at all the windows, but in order, you know, going across and then up. I ducked before he got to mine. After I heard a car drive off, I waited a few minutes and went downstairs and found Hale.”