Stump rushed into the front entrance of building four and knocked on Maria’s door. Her mama answered with a dishtowel in hand. “Maria’s not here.”
“I know, but I’m here to talk with you, not her.” She stepped aside and let him in.
“I need your help,” Stump said as he hurried into the living room. “You don’t know how much Maria loves you and I understand why. You’re a kind woman.”
“You want a cookie?”
“Not right now. I’m afraid I have a big, big problem and you’re the only person who can help me.”
She slid a cookie his way.
“Please don’t get mad at Maria, but she knew Dixon hurt you and she couldn’t stand it. She believed Dixon did similar things to other women and asked me to find out if that was true, but without making you talk to the police. Only now it’s all blown up.”
“About Mr. Kraft?”
“That’s part of it.” Stump hesitated. Then, “The truth is I discovered that Dixon is Maria’s papa.”
Mrs. Quintana stared into his eyes but it was as if she didn’t care what he knew.
“But now everybody thinks Dixon is guilty, only Maria and I know he’s innocent. I’m going to have to tell the police.”
Mrs. Quintana barely flinched at Stump’s revelations. “Some of us don’t want Dixon to get away,” he continued. “I know a lady who can help us send him to jail. I haven’t told her anything about you because I promised Maria I wouldn’t, but you would do me a huge favor if you’d talk with her. Her name is Detective Sanchez.”
Mrs. Quintana finally shook her head from side to side, “I don’t like to talk to police.”
“I know you don’t, Mrs. Quintana, but Detective Sanchez is on our side. I promise. My dad told me she’s trying to catch Dixon too, and she’s talked to some of the women who used to live here, but they are just like you. They don’t want to talk to the police either.”
“Dixon does many bad things.”
“I know he does, but somebody has to talk first. Those other women respect you. If you’d be willing to tell Detective Sanchez what you know about Dixon, she can get the other women to talk too. That way everybody can gang up on him.” Stump looked her in the eye but she was difficult to read. “I know you’re worried about being deported, but things have changed—”
She nodded. “That’s what Maria said, too.”
“She’s right. The government is not like they used to be. They don’t deport good people now. That’s why you should talk with Detective Sanchez. She knows about these things and can help you. Honest.”
Mrs. Quintana appeared to be thinking it over, but she wasn’t anxious to speak. Stump needed to raise the stakes. “I don’t want to hurt you or Maria, but I don’t know what else to do. I need your help right away for something else I’m working on for my own mom. I can’t do it unless you help me. If you’ll do that, I can get the newspapers and a TV station to show how bad Dixon has been. Then the police will have to arrest him.”
“I don’t know.”
Stump sighed and decided to use his last power point. “I wasn’t going to tell you this, but Dixon has a college fund for Maria. There’s over twenty thousand dollars in it. We might be able to transfer that money from his name to Maria’s.”
Once again, she was unmoved by his statement. “You knew that already, didn’t you?” he said.
She nodded. “If we turn in Dixon, they’ll take the money away.”
So that was the roadblock. Mrs. Quintana wanted Maria to go to college. “If they take it away we can get her a grant. And if that doesn’t work, I can get her some money from my trust. I have plenty. I won’t even make her pay me back.”
Mrs. Quintana smiled shyly. “You’re a nice man. I saw what you did for your mama. You’ve been nice to Maria too.”
“Thank you. Does that mean I can call Detective Sanchez?”
Mrs. Quintana nodded. “Okay, but she has to come here. I don’t want to go to the police station.”
Stump’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Quintana. I’ll see if I can get her to come here pretty soon. I’m sorry to be so abrupt but now I have to get home to help my grandmother,” he said as he scooted for the door.
She smiled and nodded.
Outside Stump rushed back to the parking lot where he joined James in the car. “We’re making awesome progress, Dude,” he said as he punched a phone number into his cell. “Let’s go.”
“Detective Sanchez here.”
“Detective Sanchez, this is Stump. I know you told me to stay out of it, but my dad said you needed a witness who isn’t afraid to talk to the police about Dixon and I found one. I think Dixon raped her. She said she’ll tell you everything.”
“Really. Who is it?”
“My girlfriend’s mother.”
“Inez Quintana? Great. I want to talk with her and the sooner the better. Can you get her over to the police building where nobody will see us talking?”
“I’m sorry but she specifically requested that you go to her house. I don’t know why she was so insistent, but I wanted to make it easy for her.”
“You did the right thing. I can sneak in the back door of her building. I know she’s in building four. What’s her apartment number?”
“It’s 102. Will this be enough to arrest Dixon?”
“It depends on what she says. If it’s as you say, and she agrees to testify, I think I can get other women to fall in line. That would be enough.”
“Good. Then I need a big, big favor from you.”
“I’ll try. What’s up?”
“If Mr. Kraft was killed between seven-thirty and eight-thirty, I know for certain that Dixon didn’t kill him. Dixon was following Maria and me at the time, but I need you to wait until tonight to tell Dixon that I’ve become his alibi. Then you can arrest him on the other charges.“
“That’s interesting. You sure you’ve got the time right?”
“Yes, ma’am. One hundred percent. Maria can verify it too.”
“I guess it won’t hurt anything to let him sweat it out for a while longer. Why do you want to wait?”
“It’s a timing issue. Tonight is the last City Council meeting and I think I can force my way onto the agenda if I can come up with something dynamic to say.”
“Alright. I don’t know how all this ties together, but I know how hard you’ve tried to help the people over there. You can count on me, but keep me posted. I don’t want to get this close and then fumble the ball.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll call you just before my meeting. I gotta go now. Bye.”
Stump flipped his phone in the air, and then slapped James in the arm. “I got him, Dude. Dixon’s gonna fry.”
“That’s rad, but why didn’t you tell her about the chicken box and that board we found?”
“I will, but this ain’t the right time. I have to play it out differently.”
James whistled. “I hope you know what you’re doing. What’s next?”
“I’ve still got some more calls to make, but I can do them on my own. For now, just take me back to my bike. I’m going home and acting like nothing is going on. I need you to lie low until tonight when Myles goes to his AA meeting. Then come pick me up and take me to the City Council meeting. I’ll probably bring Grandma Pauline with me.”
“Your grandma? Why do you need her?”
“I don’t, but she needs me.”
Chapter Seventy-Seven
Delores had been delaying her discussion with Inez Quintana, but Stump’s call changed everything. She dressed down to look like her alter ego, Lorraine Martinez, hid her badge and gun in the bottom of her purse and parked in her usual spot, a couple blocks from Cal-Vista. She strode to the complex and eased into the back entrance of building four.
A gentle rap at the door produced a smallish woman about forty. “Hi, are you Inez Quintana?” she asked before looking around and lowering her voice to a whisper. “I’m Detective Sanchez.
I believe you’re expecting me,” she said.
Inez let her in. “I made cookies. You want one?”
“That would be nice. Could I bother you for a glass of water too?” Delores followed her hostess to the kitchen and sat at the table. “Are we alone?”
Mrs. Quintana nodded. “I sent Maria to the store.”
“Good. First off, thank you for agreeing to see me like this. I was going to talk to you soon anyway but this makes it a little easier.”
“Stump asked me to. I trust him.”
Delores began. “As you probably know, I’m here to talk about Dixon. I’m particularly interested in his relationship with his past wives. I understand you were married to him?”
Mrs. Quintana was slow to respond. Then she said, “We lived together sixteen years ago.”
“I’ve already spoken with Francisca, Yolanda and Rosalie. They’re all angry with him for the nasty things he did to them. You might not know it, but most of what he did to them was illegal and I want to punish him for it.”
Inez glared as if she were sizing up Delores.
“The problem is,” Delores said, “nearly everybody is scared of Dixon, but they look up to you because you’ve been around here so long. You know the kind of things Dixon did to them, don’t you?”
Inez’s nod was barely perceptible.
“That’s why I need your help. If you’re afraid of being deported, I can assure you that it simply won’t happen. You’ve been in the U.S. for too long.”
There being no indication that Inez was ready to volunteer any information, Delores elected to try something else. “As a Latina, myself, I know exactly how it can be. May I tell you a story?”
Inez offered an emotionless nod.
“When I was a little girl, I had an older sister. Her name was Simone. We lived with my mama and stepfather in El Centro. Do you know where that is?”
Inez nodded, seeming to relax slightly.
Delores continued with a story about her background, until, “After my sister ran away I hated Tio, but I was scared of him. Just like other women are afraid of Dixon. But eventually, I decided I was going to be brave. I asked somebody to help me and I’m feeling much better now. You can start feeling better too.”
Inez smiled for the very first time.
“The one thing I know for certain,” Delores continued, “men like Dixon Browne need to be stopped. You and I can do that.”
Inez rose and got them each another cookie. “What do you want me to do?”
“I need you to testify. Then the other women will do it too. When all of you say the same thing, I can send him away for a long time.”
“But what if he gets out? He can come back.”
“I wouldn’t worry about that. There’s a new law that will make it very, very difficult for him. I can assure you if he does get out, it won’t be for at least 20 years. By that time he’ll be an old man.”
Inez broke a cookie in half. “That’s not enough, but I know what is.” She rose yet again. “I have to get something.”
Delores waited until Inez returned with a paper sack and pulled out a colorful piece of material. Inez carefully wiped at the front, as if to be rid of any dust or imperfections. “It’s a blouse,” she said just before handing the scrunched-up material to Delores.
The blouse had deeply imbedded creases, indicating it had been wadded up for a long time, probably at the bottom of a drawer and covered by other items. Delores carefully unfolded it to find a sealed plastic bag that contained what appeared to be an old, folded-over newspaper article. “May I take the paper out?”
“Be careful.”
Delores slowly opened the bag and eased the clipping out. Slower still, she unfolded the fragile paper to discover a black and white picture of a female body lying on the road and wearing a blouse with a busy pattern. It was dated 1996. She checked the headline. “Woman found at side of road.” She looked at Mrs. Quintana for some sort of clue.
“She’s my sister, Lupe. That monster killed her.”
What the—Delores’s hands bounced to her mouth. “Do you mean Dixon killed your sister?”
Mrs. Quintana’s head bobbed up and down, much more animated than before. “Right after Maria was born. I was the cleaning lady. I saw Dixon drive off with Lupe, but she didn’t like him. So I waited for them to come back. Then very late that night Dixon came home, alone, with a bag in his hand.”
“A bottle of liquor?”
“No. That was when he was first going gambling. I was worried. I ran to him and asked where Lupe was but he was drunk and denied even being with her. The next couple days I worried and waited for my sister to come home but she didn’t. I couldn’t read English but I watched the trash for newspapers that people threw out, and then I saw this article and picture. It was my sister. I could tell by the blouse.” Inez pointed at the blouse Delores was holding. “It was just like this one. We bought them at the same time.”
“Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry to hear about Lupe.”
“We never had any cameras so this is the only picture I have of Lupe. I knew he killed her, but I had to keep quiet because the government deported people who made trouble. I even saw him have people taken away.”
“That must have been very scary for you.”
“After that, I had to stay close to him until my Maria grew up. But now Maria is a woman and I can tell you what happened.”
Delores shook her head and re-examined the blouse in her hand and compared it to the one in the picture. “I can certainly look into it, but I doubt if this will be enough to get a conviction.”
“That’s not all.” Mrs. Quintana said. She opened a door under one of her lower kitchen cabinets, extracted a large cooking pot and placed it, upside-down, on her counter top. Then she got a broom from the corner and dragged a kitchen chair near the cooking pot. Then, with broom in hand, she stepped on the chair and then the counter. Getting a hint of what was next, Delores leapt to her feet and moved toward Inez in case she slipped. “Be careful.”
Inez took the final step. Balanced on her cooking pot, she raised the broom over her head and scraped the handle across the top of the upper cabinet to pull forward a dusty paper sack with something heavy in it.
“Here, hand it to me,” Delores said, reaching for the sack.
Mrs. Quintana did as requested and stepped all the way down. “A few days after Lupe disappeared, Dixon made me clean his apartment. I saw this on a shelf in the back room. I think it’s what he had in his hand that night when he came home late.”
Delores opened the bag to find a small but heavy gambling trophy.
“I didn’t really know what it was,” Mrs. Quintana continued, “but it had some playing cards on it. I left it alone for a few years and then he won more trophies, bigger ones, and he put them on the shelf too. Then one day I was dusting them and saw a dark spot on this one.” She twisted the trophy to show Delores. “It looked like dried blood, Lupe’s blood. Now all I have of her is this little drop of dried-up blood, and the picture from the newspaper.”
Delores couldn’t believe her ears. After all this time of trying to catch Dixon, she finally had something that would seal the deal.
“I don’t even know what happened to my Lupe,” Mrs. Quintana went on. “But now that Maria is all grown up I might be able to find out. I don’t care if I have to go to jail.”
Delores shook her head. “You won’t go to jail, honey. About all you did wrong was withhold evidence. Under the circumstances it was completely reasonable. I’m sure I can get the DA to give you full immunity if you’ll help us.”
“What’s immunity?”
“It means you won’t get in trouble because you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Chapter Seventy-Eight
After checking with Sergeant Byrdswain and the DA, Delores met the sergeant outside the police building. “Sorry I’m late,” he said. “Everybody else will meet us at Cal-Vista.”
“Fantastic,” she said, wearing
nicer clothes and more make-up than she usually sported around the complex. “I’ll drive. I’m tired of parking down the street.”
A few minutes later they pulled into the lot on their way to arrest Dixon Browne. “You’ve been working hard on this case,” he said. “You deserve your glory. I’m going to stay out of it unless you need me.”
“Thanks, Sergeant. I appreciate that. I’d also like you to hang back out of sight in the beginning if that’s okay.”
Seconds later, Dixon checked the peephole and quickly opened his door. “Lorraine! You look fantastic. What gives?”
“Just this,” she said. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him on the lips. Just as he got into it, she pulled back.
He grinned. “I see you’ve made your choice. Which is it? Monday Girl or wife?”
“Neither,” she said while stepping back and shaking her hair before she pulled her badge from her back pocket. “Surprise! My real name is Detective Delores Sanchez and that may be the last kiss you’ll ever get from a woman. I just wanted it to torment you for the rest of your miserable days.”
He scoffed and wiped his lips. “Well that explains a few things, but why all the secrecy? I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“In that case, you wouldn’t mind if I read you your Miranda rights just in case you make some gigantic confession.”
“If you’re trying to turn me on, it’s working.”
Good. The bastard was underestimating her again. She patted her pockets before pulling out a tiny booklet. “Here it is,” she said as if it was the first time she’d ever read it to anybody. “Do you mind?”
He chuckled and nodded.
“It says here you have the right to remain silent. Oh, and anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. Number three says you have the right to an attorney. Here’s another one. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you.” She exhaled and flipped the page. “Knowing and understanding your rights as I have explained them to you, are you willing to answer my questions without an attorney present?” She looked up as if she’d barely gotten through it all.
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