Buffalo Bill's Defunct (9781564747112) (16 page)

She thought about that and, ultimately, believed it. “Then tell me about the case. Who had keys to my garage?”

“Realtors. Dennis Wheeler.”

“Darcy’s Dennis?” Her voice squeaked.

He said wryly, “That’s the sum total of what I got out of Vance Tichnor. I think he’s jealous. Emil was fond of Dennis. Wheeler used to drive the old man out to Beaver Creek for a couple of hours of fishing when he got so he couldn’t drive himself.”

“Innocent.” Meg breathed a sigh of relief.

“Maybe, maybe not. Dennis’s political opinions are slightly to the right of the late commissioner’s.”

“I gathered that. Is it relevant?”

“Maybe.”

Meg turned things over in her mind. “There were other garage keys?”

“There was a lockbox outside the house. Linda says all the Tichnor keys were in that.”

“Oh, of course. I remember now. The agent who showed me around had to punch in a code to open the box. It was a multiple listing. You said Linda. Who’s she?”

“The deputy who told you about the body in the garage.”

“The one with the iodine gun. She and Jake searched the house.”

“Right. The realtor’s keys remained in the lockbox in those weeks before the deal closed.” He rubbed the back of his neck.
“You
don’t have a key to the garage’s back door. Dennis has both, according to Vance. So your back door key is still missing. You’re sure you never had it?”

“Yes.” She spoke with greater assurance than she felt.

“The locks weren’t changed and they weren’t forced.”

“Okay. Key still missing. That answers one question. Now tell me about your simple solution.”

He reached for the glass, swallowed the last of his Scotch, and shook his head, no, when she offered more. “Mack has Brand-stetter killing the man buried in the garage, and Tammy killing Brandstetter. He wants me to prepare a case against Tammy.”

“Will you?”

“I’ll look into it, certainly. I won’t know much until I talk to her tomorrow, and maybe not then. Brandstetter died intestate. This is a community-property state. She inherits. That and a history of abuse—Tom described it—and the fight they probably had yesterday make a strong circumstantial case, but I don’t think a jury would convict without something solider in the way of evidence. Say, his blood on her nightie, the weapon in her makeup case. Deputy Fong did a GRT and it showed negative for gunpowder residue. And she was probably out cold at the crucial time.”

“So you don’t think she did it?”

“No, and I don’t think Tom did, though his motive is as strong as Tammy’s. Hal was shot at very close range, and there’s no sign that he resisted. You met Hal. Does that sound likely, even with Tammy pulling the trigger?”

“No.”

“He didn’t trust many people. Whoever was with him was someone he did trust.” He shook his head. “With his life.”

Meg shivered.

“He was killed after eleven, when the espresso stand closed, but before three, according to the ME.” He rubbed his face. “Whoever it was had spent some time with Hal that evening. Someone parked a car behind the SUV.”

“To get something?”

“Who knows? The two of them probably sat there on the deck and talked for a while. Then his good buddy, whoever it was, stood up, put a gun to Hal’s temple, and shot him.”

Meg’s stomach clenched. “What about witnesses? Weren’t there any insomniacs on Old Cedar Street?”

“Two people remember hearing a car backfire but they’re foggy about the time. You told Jake
you
didn’t see or hear anything.”

“I slept without twitching for nine hours.”

“Enviable.” He yawned. “I didn’t notice anything either. Neither did the Brownings nor the Wheelers, according to Deputy Jones. Mrs. Iverson across the street thinks she saw a car leave around three—she’d got up to use the bathroom—but she’s pretty deaf. She didn’t hear anything. The house between the Wheelers and the Brandstetters is a rental, empty at this point. I have high hopes of Kayla Graves and the wind surfers. They were off somewhere all day, though, so they’ll have to be questioned.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Right.” Rob yawned again and stretched. “Thanks, Deputy.” He started to rise.

“Wait just a damned minute. What about the body in the garage? What about my petroglyph?”

He frowned and sat down once more. It was awhile before he answered her. “Brandstetter or somebody associated with him murdered a college student named Eddy Redfern, Todd Welch’s cousin.”

“Oh, no.” She called up Todd’s round rosy face, his charming air of certainty about life and the Republican Party. “Oh, poor Todd.”

“It was hard on him. He made the identification.” Rob rubbed his neck. “Eddy was looking for the Lauder Point artifacts, according to his friends and family in Two Falls. Jake and Todd verified that this afternoon. I spoke with Chief Thomas myself yesterday.”

“Chief Thomas?”

“Eddy was a Klalo.” He gave her a thumbnail biography of the principal chief of the Klalos, including his unfortunate relationship with her. “She sent those kids out without police support to find the missing artifacts.”

“She gave them her distrust of authority? I see.”

“I don’t, quite. If the kid had common sense, he would not have confronted the thieves all by himself. I need to know more about Eddy. I also need to know whether Brandstetter masterminded the original theft, and why, and who helped him. I don’t see Hal hoisting petroglyphs into the pickup that hauled the loot away from Lauder Point, though he wasn’t so fat ten years ago.”

“But he was an elected official!”

“Give me a break. We live in the Tropic of Greed. If power company executives and their government lackeys didn’t object to looting the state of California, what was there to stop a simple Libertarian commissioner like Hal from looting a county park? In any case, he was just the proprietor of a service station at the time of the theft, not an official.”

“You’re depressing me.”

He gave a wry smile. “Bring on the Prozac. How many law enforcement officers can claim two unsolved wrongful deaths in their front yards?”

“Is it a question of ego for you?” That was risky. Meg waited for him to blow up.

His eyes narrowed and his mouth compressed. After a moment, he shrugged. “A question of competence, anyway. I thought I knew what I was doing.”

“Well, you do.” She almost reached over to pat his hand, he looked so depressed, but she thought better of it. “You just need more information. For instance, why haven’t the other artifacts surfaced, where are they, and where have they been all this time? Do you think all of them were kept in the garage? That might implicate Mr. Strohmeyer.”

His mouth relaxed in a half smile. “See, I need your input. Those are some of the questions that keep pushing me away from Mack’s simple solution. It’s possible, even probable, that the Lauder Point collection was broken up and sold in separate lots. I don’t think the petroglyphs have been put on the open market, though, so the odds are either that Brandstetter sold them privately or kept them himself.”

“Where did he keep them, in my garage?”

“I doubt it. That was more likely a temporary storage space after Strohmeyer’s death. Or after he became bedridden in the last year of his life.”

Meg got up, poured herself a cup of cold tea from the pot, and nuked it in the microwave. “Do you think the sale of the house took Brandstetter by surprise?”

“It may have. He may have expected it to go on sitting empty indefinitely. Sometimes that happens when an elderly person dies. It did sit empty. The will wasn’t proved until the end of June.”

She sat, cupping her hands around the hot mug. “Three years ago, I inherited a house in Brentwood. It took a year and a half before I had a clear title to it.” Her father had contested the will. The house had belonged to his only sister. Aunt Margaret’s bequest, woman to woman, had boosted Meg’s spirits in ways she was only beginning to understand, but that was not really Rob Neill’s business.

“I inherited three years ago, but I only sold the house this April,” she said.

He nodded, as if she had explained a puzzle. “So you thought about it for a while.”

“It’s a nice house in a good neighborhood.” About half a mile from the Getty Museum. “I thought about living in it and commuting to work. Then I got this job offer. Selling the house meant I could afford to accept it and still send Lucy to Stanford.” Her aunt had had the house built in the 1950s for $30,000, an ordinary three-bedroom ranch house. It sold for a million and a half. Meg still couldn’t believe her luck. Of course, there had been taxes, and tuition and fees at Stanford were outrageous.

“But you did think about it.” Rob rubbed the spot between his eyebrows. “Most people who inherit a nice property would, but Charlotte Tichnor didn’t think twice. She sold the house as soon as she could. She had people in to plan the garage sales, and a crew to fix the house up, by the first of July. Lots of coming and going.”

Meg sipped tea. “If the petroglyphs were hidden in the garage, then there’s a chance the thieves couldn’t get at the compartment in July without calling attention to themselves.”

Rob apparently agreed. “The fact that the loot was moved in early August, when most people around here were out of town or otherwise occupied, argues for Brandstetter’s active supervision.”

“Somebody had to know the neighborhood well?”

“Exactly.” He wriggled his shoulders as if they were sore. “I don’t see Brandstetter spending ten years of his life gloating over a private gallery of native art. If their house is evidence, neither Hal nor Tammy had an aesthetic bone in their bodies. I think Hal, or Hal and his accomplice, sold the loot to a collector, I hope to a local collector. They say Germans get off on pre-Columbian art. I don’t want to think of those petroglyphs somewhere in Düsseldorf.”

“Shall I see what I can do about finding private collections of artifacts?”

“I have a list, but it’s pretty skimpy.” His gray eyes met hers. “Are you free tomorrow, Meg?”

“Yes.” Except for the small matter of unpacking her belongings.

“There are stacks of printed material in Hal’s office. Will you sort the books for us and see if you spot anything that bears on the case? Cases. Jesus.” He dragged both hands down his face. “I’m beat. I’d better grab some sleep while I can. I have to interview Tammy tomorrow and soothe the sheriff.”

Besides running two investigations. “Okay, I’ll do your sorting for you, and I’ll go on the Internet to look for collectors. Sir.”

He smiled at that, yawned hugely, and left.

E
ARL
Minetti was already at the Brandstetter house by the time Rob showed up Sunday morning, and Earl fairly quivered with ambition. The team wasn’t due in until nine.

Rob had walked the dog, then hardened his heart and rousted Tom from the sleeping bag, pointed out coffee and cereal, and abandoned the kid to his own devices. When Rob left the house, the shower was running. It was 6:45.

He called the sheriff and had a long talk, checked his e-mail, and reviewed his notes. Then he went out to look the site over.

He found Earl in Brandstetter’s office.

“Finished with the rest of the house?” Rob asked in what he hoped was a noncombative tone of voice.

“Pretty much.” Earl wore coveralls and latex gloves. “Thayer’s done a gun inventory out in the garage, but he’s not finished yet. There’s a lot of crap here, too. It’ll take some organizing.”

Rob and Linda had organized the office search the day before. Rob suspected Earl knew that. “I intend to go through the rest of the desk today.”

“Why should you do it? You have enough on your plate.” Earl gave him a gentle, patronizing smile. “The trouble with you, Rob, is, you don’t delegate.”

“I’m glad you said that.” Rob returned the smile. “I arranged to have Ms. McLean examine the print material.”

“What!”

“Swore her in as a reserve deputy.” Rob began to feel downright cheerful about his wacko impulse.

“She’s a witness.”

“Technically.”

“She’s a fucking suspect!”

“No, Earl, she’s not. Solid alibis for the whole month of August, no motive, no connection with Brandstetter or Eddy Redfern. She’d never heard of Redfern.”

“I don’t like it. Why bring in a civilian?”

“We need help. She’s a professional librarian, trained to deal with print material. She could probably check out the computer, too, but I’ll handle that.” Rob mentioned Hal’s computer because computers were Earl’s weak point. He could boot up and follow directions, but he had no confidence and very limited experience outside the conventional police databases.

Earl’s mouth twisted. “What did McCormick say?”

The sheriff had taken a good deal of persuading. “No problem,” Rob said.

Earl made a skeptical noise in his throat.

“The price is right,” Rob murmured.

“Hell.”

“She’ll sort the books and printouts and look for patterns. I was waiting until I talked to Tammy. Some of what’s stacked in here may be hers. Still, if you’re at loose ends you can move the print stuff to the dining room table. That’ll give Linda and me a little elbow room.”

“Linda!”

“Do you want to pull Ramos off the job?”

Earl opened his mouth.

“Might be bad for your team’s morale, Earl. She’s the one who found Redfern’s wallet.” Whoever checked the files would have found the wallet, but Linda deserved some kind of reward. “Credit where credit is due,” Rob said piously.

Earl knew when to give in. He looked crestfallen.

It occurred to Rob that the morale problem might lie with Earl. He could be an asshole, but he was a well-trained technical expert and a reasonably effective sergeant. He had already intimated that he felt left out.

Time to mend a fence. “How about a cup of Marge’s coffee? We need to talk.”

“Well…”

“Is the living room usable?”

“Yeah. Finished that yesterday. There’s a few things I want to look at in the master bedroom, but the office is the main problem.”

“Right.” Rob led the way down the hall. Earl shed his protective gear on the living room sofa and they went for coffee.

Back in the living room, Rob took Earl through the evidence they had in both cases. Earl had high hopes of the Brandstetter garage with all those guns. When he heard that Dennis Wheeler had keys to Meg’s garage, he was fired up and ready to get a warrant to search Wheeler’s house and garage. They talked that over, as well as Rob’s impending interview with Tammy Brandstetter.