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Not of This Fold Page 19

by Mette Ivie Harrison


  I also hoped Detective Gore would understand the situation and be willing to help.

  I did my best to obey traffic laws as I rushed to the station. When I got there, the woman at the front desk recognized me and said, “Are you here to see Detective Gore, as well?”

  “Yes,” I said, feeling relief that I must have guessed right. “Is my friend already here?”

  She nodded and led me to the same room we’d been in before, where the theatrics had been so spectacular. I hoped the conversation wouldn’t get as loud this time.

  “You didn’t have to come after me. I don’t need rescuing,” Gwen said when the door closed and we were alone. But she already looked like she regretted her decision to come here.

  “I just thought I’d lend some support. As a friend,” I said gently.

  Gwen brushed her hair back, and I realized she’d gotten it cut since I last saw her. It was much shorter than before, almost a bob. Did she think this would suit her better for the Police Academy, or was it an act of rebellion against the more traditional long, feminine hairstyles of the church?

  “Gore is a good police officer,” I tried to remind her.

  “I know you think so,” she said, and I didn’t know what else to say.

  Sooner than I expected, the door opened and Detective Gore walked in. “Ladies,” she said curtly. “What can I do for you?”

  “I want to know what your evidence against Carlos Santos looks like,” Gwen said in a hard tone that implied she had the right to demand it. But she wasn’t his lawyer or family member or even his friend. We’d met the man once and spoken to him for only a few minutes.

  “I’m afraid I can’t give you that information, as it’s part of an ongoing investigation,” Gore said with a hard, tight smile.

  “He didn’t kill Gabriela!” Gwen burst out. “He loved her. He had no reason to want her dead. She wasn’t going back to Luis. Her husband was abusing her!”

  Gore glanced at me, and I struggled not to remind Gwen that Carlos might have been lying. But the truth was, I didn’t want to tell Gore that we’d been out interviewing anyone. In particular, I didn’t want her finding out Gwen had claimed to be a police officer.

  “I would think you, as an aspiring police officer, might trust us to have done enough research and field work to be able to understand this case more clearly than you do from the outside,” Gore said sharply, her eyes pinning Gwen to her seat.

  I could feel the last meeting’s tension rising between them again. Why couldn’t these two women I liked and admired so much get along with each other?

  “Detective Gore, Gwen knew Gabriela personally. And she has her own history with the law not serving her.” I wished I could offer more, but it wasn’t my place.

  “Knowing the victim personally is precisely why she should stay out of this,” Gore said.

  “But the past—” I tried.

  “I don’t know what she went through, but she can’t use the past as an excuse to make stupid mistakes,” Gore cut me off harshly, staring straight at Gwen.

  I winced on Gwen’s behalf. I didn’t think Gwen was doing that, and it seemed unfair of Gore to refuse to sympathize when she’d had her past determine her career. Things had started off wrong between these two, and I wasn’t sure I was in a position to fix them.

  “Please, just . . .” I began, but trailed off, not knowing how to finish.

  “What do you want to tell me?” Gore said, turning to Gwen.

  An attempt at reconciliation, maybe? Though I wasn’t sure Gwen could see it that way.

  She gritted her teeth and argued, “Carlos’s story makes a lot more sense than Gabriela’s husband’s. Luis should be your suspect. He physically abused Gabriela for years before she got away from him. Once he was back in town, he had every reason to want her dead so he’d get custody of their three children.”

  Gore’s carefully sculpted eyebrows went up. “And you think that I don’t already know this information?” she asked. “We’re going on evidence here, not who we like best, you know.”

  Gwen flushed and glanced at me.

  I intervened. Maybe Gore would give my opinion more weight? “Everything points to Gabriela being afraid of her husband. Luis has been back in the country for months, and Gabriela chose not to live with him and she kept him from the children. Given that, it seems more likely Carlos is telling the truth, that she didn’t want anything to do with her husband because she was afraid of him.” Did Gore already know Luis’s alibi had been faked, as he’d admitted to us?

  “What if I told you—and this is strictly hypothetical, mind you—that Gabriela’s relationship with Carlos was more than just a romantic one? And that those complications led to the murder?” Gore said with a sigh. She sounded almost sympathetic, and she looked for a moment at me.

  “What kind of complications? What do you mean, more than romantic?” Gwen said immediately.

  Gore shook her head. “I can’t tell you any more than that. You’ll have to trust me when I say Gabriela and Carlos had many reasons to argue, and that their romantic relationship was only one of them.”

  “Are you going to try to convince me that Luis didn’t abuse Gabriela?” Gwen asked. “I know the man is violent. I—” She cut herself off before mentioning she’d been at his trailer impersonating a police officer, thankfully.

  Gore shook her head and then seemed to shut off. There was no more sympathy for Gwen in her tone. “There is no proof of Luis ever having abused Gabriela. No witnesses, no hospital records, no photographs.”

  “And so he gets off scot-free?” Gwen asked. “Because he scared her so much she never dared to ask for help? That’s a very neat arrangement for you. You don’t have to do any paperwork on him. You can just turn a blind eye and go on with your day.”

  Why did she have to antagonize Gore? “Gwen, I think it’s time—” I tried to say.

  But Gore stood up and said in a tone that brooked no more argument, “I’m going to remind you again that this is about proof. That’s how being a police officer works. You have to be able to bring evidence to a court of law and that’s what we’re doing. What I have proof of is that Luis wasn’t at the Pro-Stop the night that Gabriela was killed, and Carlos was. We have a videotape that puts him there within fifteen minutes of the time Gabriela died.”

  I was stunned that Gore had shared this with us. Maybe she didn’t think as badly of us as I’d feared, but Gwen didn’t seem to understand the implication of the reveal.

  “But Luis could—” Gwen spluttered and then stopped. Her head dropped.

  Good, I thought. Maybe she was finally being rational about this and realizing that Gore was on our side.

  “Sometimes the simplest solution is the right one,” Gore said. She glanced at me again. I really wished that I understood why she’d come by the house before. It felt like there was another conversation going on here that she was trying to explain to me without words.

  I put a hand on Gwen’s shoulder and felt defeat in her lack of response. “Let’s go,” I said softly.

  She twitched, and there was a brief moment of defiance in her stance as she rose. “Yes, let’s go. I’m sure we don’t want to waste any more of Detective Gore’s time,” she said.

  “Thank you,” Gore said, standing up as well. “There’s a lot still to be done to make sure this is properly prosecuted in court. I’ve got a long night ahead of me—a long series of nights, in fact. All that paperwork,” she threw at Gwen.

  Gwen didn’t respond, though. She was finished.

  I walked her out to the car, feeling her weight sag against me as we got closer to it. I had to help her into the driver’s seat before getting in on the other side, even though I had to drive my own car back. First, I had to make sure she was okay.

  “Do you think she’s right? That Carlos really killed Gabriela?” she said.
r />   I didn’t know, but said, “He could have, I think.”

  She let out a sigh. “I guess you’re right. But I really liked Carlos, didn’t you? I wanted so much to believe in him. And Luis creeped me out.” Gwen said. She shivered in her coat and pulled the hood over her head, despite the fact that we were already in the car. She neglected to start it and turned on the heat instead.

  I was sure that Luis had reminded Gwen of her own father, but I didn’t draw her attention to it. I thought it might make things worse.

  “Maybe we misread them both,” I said. It wouldn’t be the first time that had happened to me, unfortunately.

  We sat there for a long moment.

  “What about the kids? Do you think they should go to Luis?” Gwen asked.

  I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t liked the man, but I really didn’t know anything about him, and even if we’d seen him punch a wall, that didn’t necessarily mean he’d ever hit his wife or children.

  “For now, I imagine they’ll stay in foster care,” I said. “He’s not in the country legally, so I doubt he can prove his parental rights. I hope not, anyway.”

  Gwen looked up at me. “So you don’t think they should be with him, either.”

  She was right, and that made me uncomfortable.

  After a few minutes, she started the car and nodded to the door. I took her meaning and got out. I watched her drive off before getting into my car and doing the same. I hoped she would be all right, but wasn’t sure what “all right” looked like for her anymore.

  Chapter 27

  Kurt came home from church earlier than usual and we watched the news again, though I tried to avoid doing that on the Sabbath since it often disrupted the Spirit. I just needed to see if there were any updates on Gabriela’s case. The breaking story was that Carlos Santos had confessed to the murder.

  “Texts between the victim and Mr. Santos made it clear that they had a romantic relationship, which she had recently broken off to return to her husband and the father of her three children. In addition, video footage of Mr. Santos arguing with the victim at the gas station where her body was found, just minutes before the estimated time of the murder, has been released. Though murder investigations can sometimes take years to solve, it appears that this time, justice has been swift,” said the reporter.

  This was only part of what Gore had told us yesterday. She’d given more to us than the press, which I reminded myself meant something. She trusted us, or at least me.

  “Well, I suppose this will be the end of you and Gwen running around playing detective,” Kurt said so smugly that I remained silent.

  I looked at my phone, but had received no texts from Gwen since yesterday’s debacle at the police station.

  “Linda, I want to talk to you about something serious. Are you up for that now that Gabriela’s murder has been resolved?” Kurt asked. He’d muted the television and was looking at me with concern.

  I paused, nervous that we were going to revisit the absurd conversation about a church disciplinary council for me and Gwen.

  But instead he said, “I’m wondering if you’d like to have a calling of some sort in the ward.”

  “A calling?” I echoed.

  “I know that bishop’s wives don’t traditionally have callings because they’re busy picking up the slack their husband’s absence leaves behind, but our children have all left home, and I wondered if you wanted the chance to connect more within the ward. It seems like you’ve felt like an outsider lately, which could be the cause of some of the problems you’ve been experiencing.” He was looking at me earnestly, his arms outspread in an open gesture.

  But I shook my head. “We might not have children at home anymore, but there are plenty of family things I need to be able to focus on when you’re not around,” I said, thinking of Samuel and the phone calls I’d dealt with in just the last couple of weeks. Not to mention organizing the family gatherings in the upcoming holiday season.

  “It wouldn’t have to be a time-consuming calling. I’m not talking about a presidency or anything like that, but I think you’d be happier if you felt needed,” Kurt tried again, still earnest and open.

  What was going on here? Had President Frost told Kurt to do something to rein me in? Give the little woman something to do with her time so she stopped asking so many questions and making so much trouble?

  “Kurt, I’m not interested in being given a calling where I have to answer to a bunch of other people.” Especially men. Especially him.

  “In what sense does a Primary teacher have to answer to other people?” Kurt asked.

  So that was the calling he was thinking of giving me. I wondered if Shannon Carpenter had suggested this or if it was all Kurt’s idea. In any case, I didn’t think keeping me out of Relief Society and Sunday School was the best choice for him as bishop. Primary took two hours and would mean I was only in the regular meetings for Sacrament, where I would have no chance to talk to anyone.

  I thought I’d been useful to Kurt in helping him understand the heartbeat of the ward. There had been numerous circumstances in the last couple of years where Kurt hadn’t known about ward problems: friction in the Relief Society Presidency, financial problems with the Jones family, the near-divorce with the Tates I’d seen coming. If I took a calling in Primary, I’d be out of the loop completely.

  “You’d get to teach the lessons the way you want. I thought you’d like this.” Kurt said when I didn’t answer. He sounded so sincere. He had really convinced himself I’d be happy to say yes, like I might have ten years ago? Or even two years ago. But so much had changed since he’d become bishop.

  “I don’t want to teach in the Primary, Kurt. I’ve spent thirty years with children, and I’d like to spend some time with women my own age. Is that too much to ask?” I said, cutting him off.

  He took a breath and held it, his arms falling inward as his pose tightened. “All right,” he said finally. “If that’s what you think is best.”

  I hadn’t realized it until Kurt started talking about Primary, but it seemed the niggling sense of unease I felt about the Gabriela Suarez case was a reminder that I wasn’t finished with it yet. I wasn’t at peace with Carlos Santos’s confession, even with the evidence cited by the news report we’d seen. I just didn’t know what to do yet.

  Chapter 28

  I called Gwen the next day and asked her what she thought about Carlos’s confession. I worried bringing it up again was a mistake if she’d decided to let it go, but her tone when she answered made it clear she was still upset.

  “I’ve thought about it over and over, and I can’t believe it. They must’ve pressured him into a false confession. When we talked to him just the day before, he insisted he had nothing to do with it. That he was just worried about her.”

  “Do you think the affair was a lie?” I asked. “Or the abuse story?”

  “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I think we’re going to have to look into it some more.”

  I was relieved that I wasn’t alone in that thought, though I felt guilty.

  “We should go back to talk to Luis,” I said, wondering if I’d been as prejudiced in my assumptions about him as Gwen had been in hers.

  “Exactly what I was thinking, Linda. If we can get him to confess, do you think Detective Gore would change her mind?” Gwen said eagerly.

  That wasn’t what I’d been thinking, but it worked. “I don’t think she can use anything we find in court,” I said. “Even if we record it. But that doesn’t mean it won’t be useful.” If we at least knew the truth, we could start to hunt down the right evidence. That could set not only Carlos free, but Gwen, as well.

  A few minutes later, I picked up Gwen. She seemed jittery, full of energy, but she wasn’t speaking.

  We drove back down to Rose Park, and once there, I had to work hard to keep up with Gwe
n’s quick footsteps as she sped ahead of me. But no one answered the door of Luis’s mobile home. I was disappointed, but reminded myself that as a trucker, he was probably gone for days on end.

  “I bet I could jimmy the door open,” Gwen said, fiddling with the lock.

  The mobile home park was eerily quiet, making every sound we made louder in comparison. “Gwen, we came to talk to Luis,” I said. I didn’t want either of us arrested for breaking and entering.

  “Maybe we’ll find out more without him here. We can look around and see what he’s left behind. This way, he can’t hide anything.”

  “I don’t know. It seems like a bad idea,” I said.

  Then the door clicked open, and Gwen nearly fell into the mobile home.

  So here we were, trespassing. Again.

  Somehow, I had to get Gwen to make it out of this without sabotaging her future career. Maybe once this case was finally over with, she’d be able to go on and finish the Police Academy with a clearer head. She was just too personally involved with this case.

  “Are you coming?” Gwen asked.

  Well, standing alone out here wasn’t going to help. So I went in, trying to suppress an adrenaline rush that betrayed my better judgment.

  Inside, Gwen pointed me toward the bedroom area and started looking through the kitchen herself.

  The whole place smelled terrible, and I finally found the source of the stench in the back of the trailer. There were old food cartons in grocery bags that hadn’t been disposed of, and I saw signs of mice in the chewed-on carpet and bedding, as well as tiny droppings. If I’d needed any further reason to hurry out of here, this was it. I had a phobia of mice and instantly made a full turn to check for one nearby. I couldn’t see any, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there, lurking.

  The bedroom had a single mattress on the floor, covered by a handmade quilt. It had once been white and had a faded image of the Salt Lake temple on it. Gabriel and Luis’s wedding quilt? It wasn’t in good shape now, but the fact that he’d kept it on his bed indicated that even after her death, Luis hadn’t forgotten about their marriage. I wondered if this made it more or less likely that he’d killed Gabriela.

 

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