Chapter 27
STILWELL, DRESSED IN plain clothes, waited to greet Ballard and her team at the ferry dock. But he was surprised to see Ernie Simon and his partner, Bob Trestle, come down the gangway first. And they were surprised to see him.
“How’d you know we were coming?” Simon asked.
“I didn’t,” Stilwell said. “I’m waiting for some people from the LAPD. What’s going on?”
“We need to go up to the airstrip, take some measurements, and shoot some photos,” Simon said. “Now that you know we’re here, you think we can get a ride up there?”
“Not a problem,” Stilwell said. “We can go to the sub and get you a ride.”
He used his radio to call Dawn Stabile and tell her to come to the sub to take Simon and Trestle up to the airport.
By the time he signed off with her, they had been joined by Ballard, Laffont, and Masser, who had been stuck in the crowd getting off the boat because the two men had to wait for their roller bags.
Stilwell made introductions and everybody shook hands. Stilwell explained that they were there on separate murder investigations.
“Little island, big crime, huh?” Simon said.
“Seems that way,” Stilwell said.
The group walked to Crescent, then over to the substation.
Stilwell wanted to ask Simon what was going on with the airstrip case that required them to return to the crime scene but held back because of the mixed company.
He guessed, though, that Ilsa Ramirez might have recovered her memory of the shooting and given them new information.
He also guessed that the reason Simon had not informed him of the return trip was that Ramirez’s recollections contradicted previous thinking on the case.
He was eager to know more but needed to stick with the LAPD investigators as planned.
When they got to the sub, Stabile was waiting in an ATV. But Stilwell told her that she should use the sub’s four-seat SUV for the airport run.
“The key’s in my office,” he said.
“I think Mercy keeps it,” Stabile said.
“No, I took it from her,” Stilwell said. “Come in, and I’ll get it for you.”
He turned to the five homicide investigators, pointed to the SUV, and addressed Simon and Trestle.
“Why don’t you guys go to the car and she’ll be right out,” he said. “And you three come with me.”
The group split up and Stilwell led Ballard and her men in. Stabile followed. When they got to the squad room, Stilwell pointed to the break room.
“Coffee’s in there,” he said. “There’s a table where we can go over stuff. I’ll be right with you.”
He led Stabile into his office and closed the door.
“You’re right, Mercy has the key,” he said, “but I wanted an excuse to come in and talk to you alone. I want you to drive those guys up there and stick as close to them as you can. I want to know what they’re doing and what they’re saying. Understand?”
“Got it,” Stabile said.
“Good. Don’t be obvious about it.”
“Okay, but why?”
“They didn’t mention they were coming out. That tells me something’s going on. I want you to find out what.”
“Sure, boss. I’ll do my best.”
“Great. Go ahead.”
Stabile left and Stilwell grabbed a file off his desk and headed to the break room.
Ballard, Laffont, and Masser were already seated at the lunch table.
Ballard and Masser had coffee cups in front of them; Laffont had a Diet Coke from the fridge.
Stilwell put the file down on the table and went to the coffee maker to get a cup for himself.
“That’s what I have on Middleton,” he said as he poured. “You have his photo from a display at the ranger station, and the candids were taken yesterday at a retreat for high-school kids. He didn’t see me take them.”
There were only three chairs at the table. Ballard was spreading out the printouts of the photos. Stilwell turned and leaned back against the counter.
“So, anything new since we talked?” Stilwell asked.
“Well, these guys have volunteered to take the apartment and watch Middleton,” Ballard said. “I’ll go back and forth as needed. Were you able to get his schedule?”
“Yeah,” Stilwell said. “The ranger captain and I share schedules so we know who’s working and when. Middleton is off three days starting tomorrow.”
“Then he might go over to the mainland,” Laffont said. “Either way, we’ll be with him.”
“I’m working on putting more bodies together to tag-team him if he goes across,” Ballard said. “But here on the island, I think we need to stay small.”
“Agreed,” Stilwell said. “So you guys are volunteers?”
“We are,” Laffont said.
“What were you in your past lives?”
“FBI,” Laffont said.
“I worked major crimes as a prosecutor with the DA’s office,” Masser said.
Stilwell nodded. They were good credentials.
“Have you worked up a cover for them yet?” Ballard asked.
“Yeah. We have a vineyard not too far from the apartment that was just the target of a major act of vandalism, and I heard the owner is facing financial difficulties. I was thinking you guys are in town from the insurance company or maybe as potential buyers assessing the property. Take your pick.”
“That could work,” Laffont said.
“I like you being buyers,” Ballard said. “That way you don’t have to say a lot. You’re keeping your business on the down-low.”
“And you got the apartment short term on Airbnb,” Stilwell added.
Laffont and Masser nodded.
“The business is called Avalon Beverage Company,” Stilwell said. “People around here refer to it as ABC. They make a pinot noir called Avalon Crest. The owner is Oliver Marquez. That’s probably all you need to know.”
Laffont took a small notebook out of a back pocket and started to write it all down.
“How’s the wine?” Ballard asked.
“I don’t know,” Stilwell said. “Marquez is a bit of an entitled ass and I don’t drink his wine.”
“Okay, then,” Ballard said, amused.
Stilwell stopped himself before he further denigrated Marquez.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s check the screen and see if it’s clear to get you into the apartment.”
“What screen?” Ballard asked.
“Follow me,” Stilwell said.
They walked into the squad room and Stilwell asked Mercy to go to the break room to make more coffee.
He trusted her, but the case was too sensitive to talk about openly.
He moved to the deployment screen and in a low voice told them it was used to GPS-track law enforcement and first-response vehicles.
He explained the colors assigned to sheriff, county fire, and conservancy ranger vehicles. He pointed to a ranger unit.
“Our man is on duty today and in ranger five, a Toyota Four Runner,” he said. “At the moment his vehicle is up in an area called Hermit Gulch.”
“Perfect,” Ballard said. “We should be able to get into the OP without him knowing.”
Ballard was already referring to the apartment at Bird Park as the observation post.
“Yeah, but there’s a catch,” Stilwell said. “His girlfriend works at night in a locals’ bar. Her name’s Gwen Bassett and she’s a bartender. She gets off work late, so right now, she’s most likely sleeping. But she knows me and I know her, so if she’s awake—”
“You can’t take us up there and risk being seen by her,” Masser guessed.
“Exactly,” Stilwell said. “She tells Middleton, and he’ll suspect something’s up.”
“Are you thinking she knows what he’s been doing?” Laffont asked.
“No, there’s no reason to believe that,” Stilwell said. “But she might see me moving you guys in, and we can’t risk her mentioning it to Middleton in conversation.”
“Okay, so we go up without you,” Ballard said. “How do we get there?”
“Half a block from here is a place that rents golf carts long term,” Stilwell said. “You rent a cart and drive up. Then you have a cart if you need it. When you’re up there, go into the office and ask for Lukas. He’ll show you to the unit like you’re new tenants.”
“He knows what we’re doing?” Ballard asked.
“Just that you’re cops. It was the only way to get the apartment,” Stilwell said. “We can trust him, but he doesn’t know what this is about. Use the ABC cover story if anybody else presses you.”
“We’re good to go,” Laffont said.
“I think you need to hang back with me, Renée,” Stilwell said.
He walked over to a desk and grabbed the latest edition of the Call.
He brought it to her, holding it so she could see the photo on the front page.
It was from the recovery of the remains in the ironwood grove.
Lionel McKey had shot it from the crime scene tape, and Ballard and Stilwell were clearly identifiable.
“Fuck me,” Ballard said. “I guess I’m hanging with you.”
Stilwell walked to the charging rack and grabbed a two-way. He handed it to Laffont.
“In case you need it,” Stilwell said. “We have two deputies on patrol twenty-four seven. Avalon One and Two. Call them if you need them.”
“Hopefully we won’t,” Laffont said.
“Okay, let’s do this,” Ballard said.