Unlock the Truth (7 page)

Dena walked softly to the other chair and put her laptop case down beside it. “I’ve been going over the accounts and intended to contact you, Jim.” Zeke reached for a notepad. “See if you were ready to place an order.”

He wrote a couple more things on his notepad, checked his calendar and circled a date. “Perfect,” he said. “Yes, I’ll overnight at the Bonaventure. I’ll reconfirm with you or Hal.”

So, he’s going to L.A
. Dena almost smiled.
Maybe they could meet up?

From the upside down calendar on his desk, she saw he’d circled mid-month. Her heart almost skipped a beat. She reminded herself he would be there on business, not to see her. And the Bonaventure, they must be classy clients, or at least have big expense accounts.

“Sorry about that,” Zeke said to the man patiently waiting. He put the handset down in the cradle. “So we’re up and running, Bob?”

The man grinned and ran a hand through his long, shiny dark hair. “You’ll love the speed. Want to give it a test run?”

“I’m sure it’s fine.” Zeke signed the service record. “Get a coffee or a soda if you like. Irma’s in the kitchen.”

“Thanks. I’ll see if Manny’s here.” Bob took the paperwork, left a receipt, and nodded to Dena on his way out.

Dena swallowed hard. He fit the profile of a love interest for Carli: young, maybe twenty-four, medium height, dark, muscular, deep-suntan, and an easy swagger. Except, she reminded herself, he didn’t go by Bobby, and he was married with a kid. Carli never got involved with married men. They’d always agreed on that.

“Interesting phone call,” Zeke said to Rocky. “It looks good for Three C’s. I think we’ve got Harmon and Bauer in the bag.”

Dena refocused. She noticed Rocky purse his lips, and while one hand balled into a fist, he flexed the fingers of the other hand. He didn’t look as happy as Zeke did about the phone call. Had they argued? Or could Rocky’s distaste and silence be directed at her?

“They’re buyers,” Zeke said, and smiled at her.

Dena only half-listened, her thoughts still on Rocky. A short siren burst, like one whoop, sounded close by and the tension in the room went up another notch.

Zeke stood and peered through the shutters on the office window. “Rocky, he’s back.” He swung around. Anger flashed across his face replaced quickly by concern. “I’m glad I called you in.”

Dena stiffened.
Who is back? Stanton?

“This doesn’t look good,” Zeke said, and splayed one hand against the window frame.“He must have a warrant.”

Rocky hurried to the window, jostled Zeke out of the way. “He could be after Irma’s kid.” He turned and spoke to Dena for the first time this morning. “Manny is always in trouble.”

“This is bigger than some Latino kid running with a gang,” Zeke said quietly.

“I told you it wasn’t safe here,” Rocky said, glaring at Dena. “Good thing you’re leaving.”

Zeke’s skin paled, a whitish circle more prominent around his mouth, and a hard cold glint lit his eyes. His jaw clamped tight. He squared his shoulders and strode to the desk.

“Where the hell is my BlackBerry?”

Dena leaned forward, looked around, unable to spot it anywhere on the cluttered desk.

“I can’t go through this again,” he said, patting at his pocket and lifting pages off the desk. “I need to call the damn lawyer, not that he’s been of much help.” He started tossing papers and books right and left, and Dena got up, walked around the desk and put a hand on his arm.

“Zeke, listen. Give me the lawyer’s number. I’ll call him later, if it becomes necessary.”

He jerked his head up and stared at her. Then he seemed to regain his focus. He shoved the hair off his forehead.

“Sit down,” she urged, and pulled out his office chair. “Take some deep breaths, stay in control. Trust me. I’m a communications expert, remember?”

Irma hurried into the room, her brown eyes round and inquiring. “What is?” she asked.

Dena gave Zeke her complete concentration. Glad that he’d listened and now sat behind his desk. They only had seconds before Stanton would gain entry. “Something’s going on at Three C’s, other than the deaths of two women,” she said, ignoring Irma. “I’m not sure if those deaths are connected to the bigger picture.”

Zeke frowned.

The gate intercom buzzed again. Rocky stared at her, his features frozen, like she’d pushed his head into the cold early morning waters of the horses’ trough.

Zeke looked across the room at Rocky. “Unlock the door. Don’t rush, take your time.”

“What is?” Irma asked again, her voice shaky.

“Police,” Dena said, and turned her attention back to Zeke. “You don’t have to do this alone. I’m going to watch over your business, and you.”

He nodded.

“We’ll talk more about the contract later. Write down your lawyer’s name and number. We’ll work on a statement together to release to the public, if need be.” She handed him the pen. “Cooperate with the cops, and maintain your innocence.”

He scrawled the information on a notepad and she ripped off the page and shoved it into her pocket, just as Rocky hurried into the room behind Deputy Stanton.

****

Zeke noticed two Riverside County Sheriff’s vehicles pull up in the driveway. Several cops climbed out. He turned his back to the window, kept his gaze on Stanton, and took a couple of deep breaths. “Let the others in before they break down a door, Rocky.”

“Step away, lady,” Stanton said. He indicated Dena should move toward the window. “I could have you arrested for impeding the law. You two were picked up on the surveillance camera at the hotel site this morning.”

Zeke went to speak, but Dena butted in.

“I can explain all of that—”

“I’ll bet.” Stanton shoved past her, and approached the desk in a slow waddle.

A tall silver-haired guy in civilian clothes entered, followed by another officer, and he stood a moment just inside the door and assessed the scene. Zeke watched him slowly make his way over to the desk.

“Detective Quimby,” he said, and displayed his identification. “We’d like you to come in to give a statement, if you don’t mind, Mr. Cabrera.”

“Not at all,” Zeke said. He nodded, appreciated the decency of the detective. Stanton should take lessons. Irma started to wail, and he felt his shoulders stiffen. He hated to upset the woman who had always mothered him. Fortunately, Rocky wrapped his arms around her and spoke in hushed tones.

“Get her out of the room,” Stanton said, and Rocky led Irma out into the hallway.

Zeke watched the action like a movie in slow motion. He realized Dena kept her hand on his shoulder. It felt good. Rocky tried to calm Irma outside the door. The other officer reached over and shut the door with a loud bang.

“Wrap up the party, Stanton,” Quimby said. “Let’s get down to Indio, okay?”

“Why Indio?” Zeke asked, but kept his voice quiet and steady.

“Almagro doesn’t have a lock-up.” Stanton leaned in close and sneered.

Quimby stared hard at Stanton, jerked his chin up and tilted his head toward the corner of the room. He crossed the room, arms folded across his chest, and waited until Stanton waddled over and stood beside him. From the two bright red spots high on Stanton’s cheekbones, he was being dressed-down.

Zeke caught hushed words that sounded familiar, procedure came up several times. Quimby’s face darkened with anger, but he never raised his voice. In fact his lips barely moved.

“Sorry about that,” Quimby said, and approached the desk with a stiff smile. He picked up a small statue and looked it over then replaced it. “Stanton’s a little too close to the case. I’ve got a warrant for phone records. With your permission we’ll tape this discussion.”

“Sure,” Zeke said.

Quimby beckoned the man near the door.

“Land line, cell phone, what do you need?” Zeke asked, and opened the file drawer of the desk.

“Everything you’ve got dating back a year. We’ll take a full statement at the station. We’ll need audio and video tapes.”

Zeke swallowed hard and nodded.

“The young woman had your telephone number in the pocket of her jacket,” Quimby said. “Like the first victim.”

“Susie did?” Zeke looked puzzled. “Really?”

Dena gasped, somewhere behind him, but Zeke didn’t look around. He took in a deep breath, and held it for a moment. It was the same as in Carli’s case. He eased the breath out. Had someone tried to frame him? He felt sick to his stomach then it hit him.
What the hell? This didn’t sound right.
His eyes narrowed, opened, narrowed again.

“That’s odd,” he said, after a few seconds. “Susie knew this number. It’s been the same one since we were in high school, and—”

“Save it for the interview,” Quimby said.

Dena moved away, and he felt the loss of her strength. She sat on the corner of the credenza, dropped her head forward and stared at her shoes. She looked pale and he hoped she wouldn’t faint and end up on the rug. When she looked up again, her eyes were damp with tears. Zeke felt his chest tighten, and he wondered if she still believed in his innocence. For some strange reason that had become extremely important to him.

“Will you drive in, or can we offer you a ride?” Detective Quimby asked, a few moments later.

Zeke frowned. He made it sound like they were going to a bar or a football game. About to comment, he recalled Dena’s advice.

“I’ll come in with you guys,” he said, and stood. Might as well get it over and done with, it would just be his recorded statement, that’s all. Not a big deal. He had no idea why he’d been acting like such a pansy.

“Stanton,” Quimby said. “Give your buddy here a lift. I’ll see you back at the station.” He strode out of the room.

“I’ll help in any way I can,” Zeke said, and turned toward Stanton. He felt stronger now, more in control. “Let’s go.”

Thoughts crashed through his memory. Visions of being a kid and home sick from school, his father dead, his mother gone to take care of business, only Irma to care for him. He’d always been alone, and lonely. His mother had raised him well, but once he’d hit sixteen, well, emotionally, she’d shut him out. As a young man, he’d learned not to need anyone. Dena had said he didn’t have to do this alone. He looked over at her. She smiled that special smile. It would be fine. He glanced at Stanton who idly swung the cuffs.

“No cuffs. You have no right,” Dena said, and stepped toward the deputy, her expression fierce. “You can’t cuff him.”

Zeke would have laughed if he could. Dena’s fists were clenched and she seemed about to deck Stanton. She was a spitfire, best not to get on her bad side, ever.

“That’s detainment,” Dena said, and glared at Stanton. “You can’t do that, he’s going in willingly.”

Impressed with her understanding of police procedure, Zeke shot her a quick, appreciative glance. Maybe her expertise came from handling the problems of her celebrity clients.

Stanton ignored her.

Zeke felt him move in close from behind, push him forward, and slyly knee him in the back of the leg. At least he’d put the cuffs away. His old football buddy’s beer belly pressed hard against his lower back, and his coffee-tainted breath fell hot on his neck.

“Where will they take you?” Rocky asked as he re-entered the room.

“Indio,” Zeke said.

Stanton nudged him again. Zeke knew the man enjoyed the moment; he’d splatter his heroic role all over the valley by midnight. God, he hated this. He hated it worse than anything he’d ever dealt with in his life. He felt defenseless and all of the issues that surrounded his prior statement, also taken in Indio, flooded his mind. They hadn’t held him, but the sense of desolation, the loneliness, and then afterward, the quizzical stares, the whispers, those newspaper headlines—

“Sweetheart,” Dena said, and sidled up to him. “I’ll follow you in my car.”

“Stay here. I’ll be home soon.”

“No,” Dena said, with a quick shake of her head. “A woman who loves and trusts her man wouldn’t let him go through this alone. Plus, it was my fault that we were on that property. And you’ll need a ride home.”

Stanton spun around and stared at her.

She smiled and gave a casual hitch to one shoulder. “I’m taking a course to be a private investigator. One day I plan to have my own business. I didn’t cross police caution tape. I’d never do that. I just wanted to get a feel for the place.”

Zeke blinked hard.
A P.I.? She was a good actress, missed her calling that’s for sure.

“Save it. He’ll be questioned,” Stanton said.

“And by the way,” Dena said. “Nobody from your department has come out to take a report from me. You know I was shot at today.”

Stanton stared at her again.

Zeke felt more pressure behind his knee.

“There’s strange stuff going on around here,” Dena said.

Stanton sneered. “It might be a good idea if you come along. I’ll take that statement from you. It could take a while to break this guy. You might have to wait for hours.”

Zeke stiffened at Stanton’s words. So, he really did think he was guilty of rape and murder. He kept his eyes straight ahead, wouldn’t give his old buddy the satisfaction of a response. They’d had their childhood rivalries, fights on the football field, but as adults they’d seemed to get along. How could he think this of him?

“I can wait,” Dena said. “Zeke’s situation is of greater importance. Mine could have been kids shooting rabbits.”

Yeah, like she believed that. Zeke shook his head. But he was relieved to know she was back to giving him support.

“Oh, and sweetie, you should take a jacket,” Dena said. “Now where did you put it?”

Rocky moved to the closet in the hallway.

“Here,” Rocky said and shoved the leather jacket forward.

Zeke almost laughed. Stanton wasn’t about to carry a jacket for the suspect.

“I’ll take it.” Dena grabbed it. “Zeke, you hung it up. Wow! I wondered where you’d left it. Geez, Rocky. Zeke and I’ve only been together for two months and look at the improvements. I’ll have him housebroken before you know it.”

Rocky looked confused, but nodded.