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Authors: J.A. Jance

Left for Dead (40 page)

BOOK: Left for Dead
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Al managed to sneak a glance at Sergeant Dobbs’s stony face while the letter was being read. He didn’t look happy.

Al, on the other hand, was happy. Lighter than air. Thanks to Detective Rush, he had public acknowledgment that he had helped with something important, and he wasn’t done helping, either. He planned to contact Detective Rush to let her know that he’d be happy to go straight back to PMC to continue looking after Rose Ventana the moment his shift was over. And if Dobbs gave him any grief about it? Tough.

Al Gutierrez had been looking for a job when he found this one. And if push came to shove, he could always go apply at Phoenix PD.

58

10:00
A.M
., Tuesday, April 13
Tucson, Arizona

During the two-and-a-half-hour drive from Tucson back to Phoenix,
Detective Ariel Rush managed to scare the hell out of Angel Moreno. With a prosecutor backing her up and the possibility of a plea deal on the table, Moreno was ready to talk. And talk he did.

By nine o’clock the next morning, the detective had enough probable cause to get a search warrant for Humberto Laos’s Fountain Hills mansion. She was determined to move forward in a hurry. Detective Rush knew that once Laos realized Angel Moreno was in custody, the big guy would pull a disappearing act. He had the means to flee, and she was convinced he would do so. She was also concerned about gaining access to that basement room while there was a chance of retrieving damning DNA evidence.

She knew she had the goods on the guy, but it was rewarding to be in the room and watch as the luminol spray on Laos’s basement floor lit up like a Christmas tree.

Detective Rush had left two cops in charge of Laos while she went down to the basement with the crime scene techs. She came bounding back up the stairs with a smile on her face.

“Mr. Laos,” she said, turning him around and slipping on a pair of cuffs, “I’m placing you under arrest for the murder of Chico Hernández, Sal Lombardi, and Tony Verdugo. You’re also being charged with the attempted murder of Rose Ventana.”

“Who?” Laos asked, trying to look genuinely puzzled. “I never heard of anyone named Rose Ventana.”

“Right,” Detective Rush said, securing the cuffs. “And your friend Angel Moreno didn’t have a syringe filled with enough ketamine to kill a horse, either.”

She saw the surprise register on his face when she mentioned Angel’s name. That was when she pulled out the card and began reading. “You have the right to remain silent …”

59

10:00
A.M
., Tuesday, April 13
Tucson, Arizona

As soon as Ali got to the hospital the next morning, she could see there
had been a sea change. Not one but three Santa Cruz County sheriff’s vehicles were parked in the parking lot. Since Jose Reyes was no longer officially off-limits, there were three uniformed deputies in his room, chatting and laughing.

Ali found Teresa and Carmine in the ICU waiting room. Maria Delgado was there, along with her brother and a much chastened Julie.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” Teresa said to Ali. “If it hadn’t been for you, my girls would be gone.”

“How are they?”

“The doctor says Lucy should come out of the ICU later this morning. Carinda may take a little longer.”

“Good.”

Teresa was quiet for a moment. “I can’t believe that Olga hated me enough to do all this.”

“I believe it’s a safe bet that Olga Sanchez had a couple of screws loose,” Ali said. “It’s probably terrible of me to say so, but I think she did the world a favor by ending it the way she did. At least it’s over. Nobody has to go to court. Nobody has to testify. Items found in her trunk—the remains of Jose’s dashboard camera and the fishing filament used to trip Phil Tewksbury—link her to both crimes, and they are currently considered closed.”

Teresa nodded. “Juanita Cisco called me a little while ago. She said
Lieutenant Lattimore called and told her we’re no longer under investigation. That’s thanks to you, too.”

“No,” Ali said. “I think it has a lot more to do with Patty Patton, the lady who runs the post office in Patagonia, and with Sheriff Renteria. They’re the ones who got Lattimore to back off.”

“And then there’s the will,” Teresa said.

“What will?” Ali asked.

“Oscar’s will. The ranch, the house in Tucson, all of it goes to the girls—to Lucy and Carinda. They’re Oscar and Olga’s only grandchildren and their only heirs. I’m sure it’s going to be complicated, but …”

“Yes, depending on how the will is written, there will be probate issues, and the properties will need to be sold or held in trust for your girls. There may even be other relatives who come crawling out of the woodwork, hoping to grab some share of the pie. Your lives will be different and probably far more complicated than you ever would have thought possible. And far more interesting. After what you and Jose have been through this week, I think you’re up to the task.”

Late that afternoon, Ali headed home to Sedona. She wanted to see her bighorn sheep. She wanted to see the plants going into her garden. She wanted to sleep in her own bed. She wanted to tuck in to some of Leland Brooks’s cooking. When he heard she was coming home, he promised to have some roast beef hash ready to cook the moment she walked in the door.

When Ali knew Donnatelle would be off shift, she called to give her the lowdown.

“I knew Olga was trouble the moment I met her,” Donnatelle declared, “but I had no idea she was as bad as all that. Now, though, thanks to her, Lucy and Carinda get everything?”

“That’s how it looks,” Ali said. “The ranch and the house in Tucson.”

“Sweet,” Donnatelle said. “So some things do turn out right in the end.”

A full moon was rising as Ali pulled into the driveway at Manzanita Hills Road. She left the car inside the garage and walked around the outside of the house. Her bighorn sheep was just visible at the far end of the front yard. He looked for the world as though he might come to life and scramble up and over the man-made cliff that was his
home. In that moment, Ali Reynolds couldn’t have been more proud of her son, Christopher. He was indeed a talented young man.

The porch light snapped on, and Leland Brooks came out through the front door. “What do you think?” he asked.

“It’s beautiful,” she said. “Breathtaking.”

“Yes, it is that. Come on in this way,” he added. “I’ll go fetch your bags from the garage.”

Ali stepped onto the porch and inhaled the delicate scent of wisteria. The gnarled old tree was heavy with blooms, just as it had been years earlier when Ali had stepped onto the porch the first time, coming to hear the surprising news about being the recipient of an Askins scholarship.

Inside the door on the entryway table, she saw the mail, neatly stacked. She thumbed through it and opened the two small envelopes that contained the RSVPs for Sunday’s tea. Not surprisingly, both Olivia McFarland and Autumn Rusk would be coming to tea on Sunday, Olivia at two o’clock and Autumn at four.

“They’re both coming?” Leland asked as he returned from the bedroom, having dropped off Ali’s luggage.

“Yes, they are.”

“I supposed I’d best start planning the menu,” he said.

“I saw Haley and Marissa while I was down in Tucson,” Ali said. “They’re both doing very well. So is Liam.”

“Not surprising,” Leland said. “Not surprising at all. And what about Sister Anselm? Will we be seeing her anytime soon?”

“She’s fully occupied at the moment,” Ali said. “But she’ll turn up eventually.”

“The hash should be ready in about ten minutes or so. Will you be eating it in the dining room?”

“No,” Ali said. “The kitchen, please. And break out a bottle of wine. I’d like to share it with you while you tell me all about the garden.”

“Very good, madame,” Leland Brooks said. “Whatever you wish.”

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BOOK: Left for Dead
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