Chapter Thirty
Thirty
Sunlight slanted through the blinds, a thousand daggers stabbing into her brain.
Leanne sat up. Someone was at the door.
She kicked off the covers and swung her legs out of bed. She’d slept in her jeans. She grabbed her phone from the nightstand to check the clock.
“Crap.”
She rushed through the house. The living room windows faced east, and she squinted at the glare as she went to check the peephole.
Michelle stood on the porch with Gus in her arms. Leanne flipped the lock and opened the door.
“Morning,” her neighbor said brightly. “I found this guy pawing at your door.”
“Oh. Thanks.”
She set him down at Leanne’s feet, and he darted inside.
Michelle frowned at her. “Are you sick?”
“No, just…no.” She combed her hand through her hair. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to circle back about the broken steps.”
Leanne stared at her, drawing a blank.
“Campsite Four? You said your brother might be able to—”
“Oh. Yes, I’ll talk to him.”
“You sure?” Michelle tipped her head to the side. “I can call someone else if I need to.”
“Let me talk to Ben first. I think he’s free this week.”
“That’d be great. I need to get it done by Thursday, at the latest. We’re booked solid this weekend.”
“Got it.”
“Thanks.”
When Michelle was gone, Leanne took a fast shower.
Ignoring her coffee craving, she grabbed a can of Dr Pepper from the fridge and jumped in her truck.
She drove to work with the windows down, hoping the cold would numb her headache, but when she reached the station house, her skull was still pounding.
She spotted Marty Krause from the Sentinel in the rear parking lot, leaning against his car and smoking a cigarette. The dead-last thing she wanted to do right now was talk to a reporter, so she pulled a U-turn and parked in the front.
Nadine glanced up from her computer as Leanne walked in.
“Good morning,” she chirped.
Leanne peeled her sunglasses off. “Morning.”
“You don’t look too good, hon. You coming down with something?”
“I think I overdid it last night.”
She made a face. “Need some aspirin?”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“Well, heads up—the chief’s looking for you.”
Leanne winced.
“Sorry.” Nadine gave her a half smile. “Sure you don’t want something?”
“I’m okay.”
Leanne smoothed her hair and tucked her sunglasses into her jacket pocket, then pushed through the door into the bullpen. McBride’s office door was open. She leaned her head in, hoping to keep it brief.
“Good morning.”
He looked up and frowned. “You’re here.” He swiveled his chair to face her. “Have a seat. Shut the door behind you.”
Leanne’s stomach twisted as she stepped into his office and closed the door with a quiet snick.
McBride was looking her over, no doubt taking in her less-than-crisp appearance.
“How’s your mom doing?”
She relaxed a fraction. “She’s all right. Thanks for asking.”
He shook his head. “Hell of a thing.”
“Yes.”
He leaned forward. “Listen, I reached out to Chisos FAR earlier this morning to check in on things.”
Something in his tone needled her. She didn’t know why McBride would be checking in with county fire and rescue officials.
“What did they say?” she asked.
“They found pour trails. Also, the burn pattern on the walls suggests arson.”
Leanne stared at him, waiting for more.
“Now, I talked to Meachum,” he continued. “I’ve deflected him for now to give y’all time to get your house in order.”
Leanne frowned. “What’s that mean?”
“It means what it sounds like.” He leaned back in his chair. “You need to talk to your brother.”
A sour ball formed in her stomach. “Why?”
“Come on, Leanne. He’s got a record. And everyone knows there’s no love lost between him and your stepdad.”
“I’m not sure exactly what you’re getting at. My brother’s an addict—who’s been clean for three months, by the way. He’s not an arsonist.”
“You sure about that? When the insurance adjuster comes out to see about those fancy cars, you think he’s going to find out that fire was used to cover a theft?”
“A theft of what?”
“I don’t know. All I’m saying is—get your house in order. I tried to buy y’all some time.”
Anxiety bubbled up inside her as his implications sank in.
He seemed to have made up his mind about Ben.
Had Glenn Meachum made up his mind, too?
If the police chief and the fire chief had decided to look at Ben, did he even have a chance?
McBride’s logic was weak, and the supposed motive sounded vague, at best. But Leanne didn’t like that her brother’s name had come up at all in connection with this.
She had seen investigations go sideways when people got tunnel vision.
“Next subject.” McBride rested his elbows on the desk. “Our Jane Doe case. What’s the status?”
She tried to shake off her anxiety and shift gears.
“The status is, the victim’s been identified through fingerprints—as you probably heard—so she’s no longer a Jane Doe. Her name is Valeria Reyes, age nineteen, from Albuquerque.”
He knew this already, but he seemed to want to hang on to his original shorthand, maybe because it made the case easier to deprioritize.
“Reach out to Fort Stockton, where she was booked,” he said.
“I was planning to.”
“She was arrested for prostitution, right?”
“That’s right.”
“They should be able to help. Don’t be shy about pumping them for information. I want this wrapped up soon. It’s already been more than a week.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I don’t want this dragging on, especially with all the reporters we’ve got camped out around town. Doesn’t look good. Not to mention, it’s bad for business.”
Leanne’s temper festered. Bad for his family’s business, he meant.
The chief’s cousin ran a bed-and-breakfast in town, and she’d been making a mint with the tourist boom.
Leanne suspected that McBride was an investor, but she couldn’t be sure.
And the chamber of commerce president was leaning on him, too.
Everyone wanted the appearance of law and order, regardless of reality.
“Leanne? You got me?”
“I understand.”
“Good. Then you’ll understand when I give you a deadline. Two days to get me a name.”
“A name?”
“I want a suspect in forty-eight hours, or I’m handing this off to Rodriguez.”
“But—”
“That’s it, Everhart. Better get moving.”
He turned back to his computer as Leanne stood up. She started to say something but then thought better of it.
“Yes, sir.”
She walked out, dazed by the rapid-fire turn of events.
Ben was a suspect in the fire at Boone’s ranch.
She had forty-eight hours to identify a potential serial killer.
The chief was ready to yank her case away from her. Not only was he ready, he seemed to be looking for an excuse.
Her mind spinning, she went to her cubicle and sank into her chair. Stacks of paperwork covered the desk. Next to her keyboard was a pink message slip with a note from Nadine: Feel better and a pair of aspirin tablets.
“Leanne.”
She glanced up as Mark Rodriguez walked over.
“You busy?” he asked, leaning his arm on her cubicle.
She swallowed the pills, then grabbed her mug and washed them down with the dregs of yesterday’s coffee.
“I’m slammed,” she told him. “Why? What is it?”
“Damn.” He looked around the room. “What about Josh? Is he busy?”
“No idea. What’s up?”
“I got a callout to that yucca farm out on Lost Mine Road.” Mark turned around. “There he is. Hey, Josh.”
Leanne shuffled through a stack of papers until she found the arrest report for Valeria Reyes. She’d put in a message to the arresting officer, but she hadn’t heard back yet. She had a sneaking suspicion she was going to have to hound the guy.
Josh walked over and leaned on Leanne’s cubicle. “I heard about your mom’s ranch,” he said. “How’s she doing?”
“Fine. And it’s Boone Sullivan’s ranch, not hers.”
“Josh, man, I need a favor,” Mark told him. “You busy right now?”
“I’m on my way to the motel to see about a couple of car burglaries.”
“Mind if I cover that one, and you can take mine? I just got a callout to the yucca farm out on Lost Mine Road.”
“Carr Farms,” Josh said.
“Yeah, the crazy old guy who owns it claims he saw aliens stealing his crops last night. Said they came in with big white lights and took everything.”
Josh frowned. “Aliens like ETs?”
“No, man, like illegals. But this guy’s got Alzheimer’s or something. He’s total batshit and he hates Mexicans. Last time I went out there he aimed a shotgun at me from his porch and started screaming all kinds of shit.”
“Poachers,” Leanne said. “They were in the park last summer, uprooting yucca plants. They stole a couple truckloads.”
“They literally dug up the trees?” Josh sounded skeptical. “That’s a lot of work.”
“Some of those plants go for hundreds apiece,” Leanne said. “You should see the prices in Dallas.”
The yearslong drought had created a spike in demand for desert plants as people traded their thirsty green lawns for xeriscaping. Yet another problem for the park rangers to deal with on top of everything else.
“I’m going to get my ass shot off if I go out there,” Mark said. “One of you want to trade calls?”
“I’ll go,” Josh said. “You take the motel burglary. The manager’s name is Allison, and it’s a couple SUVs in the parking lot that got hit overnight.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, no problem.”
“Thanks, man. I owe you one.”
Mark walked off, and Leanne turned her attention to her paperwork. She skimmed through the Valeria Reyes arrest report and then added it to her accordion file, which was getting fatter by the day. Grabbing her keys, she stood up.
“Where are you off to?” Josh asked.
Leanne glanced across the bullpen as Mark slid on his sunglasses and walked out. He probably had no idea he was in line to inherit her homicide case.
“Fort Stockton,” she said.
“The Reyes case.”
“Yeah, I’ve got a message in to the arresting officer. I’m hoping to track him down today.” She paused. “You want to come?”
“Sounds like I’m headed out to the yucca farm to maybe get my ass shot off.” He frowned. “So, is your mother really all right? I heard it was a mess out there.”
“She’s okay. Shaken, mostly.” She glanced at the chief’s office and lowered her voice. “Listen, I think I’m going to need your help later. McBride gave me forty-eight hours to identify a suspect or he’s yanking my case and giving it to Rodriguez.”
Josh’s eyebrows shot up. “No shit?”
“No shit.”
“Forty-eight hours isn’t much time. What’s the big rush?”
“Hell if I know.” She glanced at McBride’s door, which was closed now. “What do you think?”
Josh shook his head. “I think you’d better get to work.”