Murder on Sagebrush Lane (3 page)

6

“I waited an entire hour, you know. I really tried my best to be patient, but when you didn’t call back, I had to come see for myself.”

Ginger had dropped the frantic mood she arrived with and replaced it with a more normal “boy are you in trouble” attitude. Harrie couldn’t keep herself from grinning. Ginger did not like to be left out of the action, and Harrie had known her friend would be annoyed after she had a chance to calm down. They sat at the breakfast bar, discussing the day’s events so far.

“I’m sorry, really I am. I told Caroline we were okay, and that I’d explain when I had the chance. I should have known that would never be enough for you.” Harrie patted Ginger’s arm and tried to look apologetic, but she knew the smile on her face betrayed her.

Ginger shook her head, and grinned. “Well okay then. Just don’t let it happen again.” She stood, and looked toward the hallway. “So, when do I get to see this little angel you’re protecting?”

Harrie beckoned her to follow. “We’ll peek in and see if she’s still asleep. Poor little thing was wrung out. There’s no telling how long she’d been awake this morning. I only hope she slept through . . . ” she couldn’t finish that thought. “I pray to God she didn’t actually witness it.”

Harrie gently opened the guest room door, and she and Ginger slipped in. Katie lay curled up, looking so tiny in the huge bed. Harrie had found a T-shirt of hers that worked as a nightshirt for the little one. One arm clutched her newly cleaned bear, and the other hand was close to her face, thumb in her mouth. Long lashes rimmed her closed eyes, and she breathed soft, regular breaths. Ginger walked around the bed and gazed down at the child. She pressed her hand to her heart. Harrie motioned to her, and they tiptoed out and closed the door. Back in the family room, they realized for the first time all the police were gone. They had the house to themselves, and the quiet came as a welcome relief.

“Tell me what you know about Katie’s parents. Does she have anyone to care for her?”

Harrie relayed the information DJ had gathered from talking to Lt. Swanson. “So except for this woman who is supposedly Katie’s aunt, apparently there’s nobody. And now Swannie says CYFD will be here soon. Ginger, they’re going to take her away. They’ll put her in a foster home. Who knows what the people will be like? I’ve heard so many horror stories about kids in foster care. I can’t stand the thought of that little girl going through another upheaval—not after what she’s already been through.”

“You cannot allow CYFD anywhere near that child.” Ginger looked indignant at the very thought of it. “What can we do?”

Harrie’s spirits lifted at Ginger’s words. As always, her friend would stand and fight beside her. “I don’t know. I haven’t been able to think it through, but I have the germ of an idea. I can’t pull it off without you, DJ, and Steve. I’m pretty sure I can convince DJ, but you’ll have to handle Steve. Is that a problem?”

A wicked smile creased Ginger’s face. “I think I can manage that.”

7

When Steve Vaughn pulled into the driveway, DJ and Swannie stood on the front lawn, deep in conversation. The two men looked up when he got out of the car.

“That was fast.” DJ hurried over to join him.

“You picked a good time to call. I was a bit stir crazy. Hey, Swannie! What’s so special about this case it got the Intel Unit out here?”

A tired grin played across Swannie’s face. “You know how it is. Sometimes, when a case looks like a hot potato, they call for the old guy to rescue them.”

DJ and Steve exchanged looks and chuckled. DJ said, “You’re not that old, Swannie.”

Swannie rubbed a faint stubble of five o’clock shadow and snorted. “Some days, it feels like it.”

“Well then,” Steve said, “how’s the case going? Any leads?”

Lt. Swanson shook his head. “This is not a good situation, Steve. I gather DJ filled you in on the details?”

Steve nodded. “As I understand it, you want to get this little girl into protective custod
y
with people other than CYFD. Is that about it?”

“Can we do that? I expect they’ll be a little hard-nosed about it. DJ says he and Harrie can take her in. CYFD will select a foster family pulled from a list of available names. I think being in the home of an FBI agent would constitute a reasonable substitute. Or am I making too much of a logical leap here?”

DJ said, “I’ve already passed it by my SAC. He has no problem with my acting as the child’s protective guardian while this investigation is ongoing. The only sticking point, as far as I can see, is our proximity to the murder scene. But even that should be overridden by the fact that either Harrie or I will be with her at all times.”

Steve nodded. “That sounds good. But what I need now is a family court judge to give us a special order of protection for the child. After that, providing of course he approves you and Harrie being the temporary foster family, I think we’ll be okay.”

Swannie frowned. “You have a judge in mind? Seems to me, from what I’ve heard, those Family Court judges are pretty tight with CYFD—and not all that amenable to outsiders butting in to their affairs.”

Steve shrugged. “Well, all we can do is make our case and hope whoever I get is open minded enough to see the benefit of handling it this way. I’m pretty good friends with one of the judges, John Connors. He’s a good man, very independent, and he’s dedicated to protecting children who come before him in situations like this. I think he’ll listen to me without prejudice.”

DJ looked toward the house. “Uh oh. Brace yourself. Here comes trouble in the form of our wives. What do we tell them?”

Steve chuckled. “I’ll explain what we’re about to do. That ought to be enough to keep them happy for the next hour at least. But while I’m gone, you guys are going to have to ride herd on them. If CYFD shows up before I return with the court order, you may have a bit of fancy talking to do. You up for that?”

The three men intercepted Harrie and Ginger before they stepped off the front porch.

“Sweetheart.” Ginger smiled as she approached her husband. “What are you doing here?” She kissed him on the cheek. “I was just going to call you.”

“DJ beat you to it, my love. Let’s go back inside and talk.” He looked over his shoulder and nodded toward the gaggle of women gathered on the lawn across the street.

He leaned closer and spoke into Ginger’s ear, “We don’t want the entire neighborhood sharing our conversation.”

8

Winnie Devlin was not so much old as she was worn out. She and Herb had worked hard all their married life to have a better existence. So many things went wrong over the years, but Winnie always found a way. She thought of herself as resourceful, perhaps her best quality. She certainly wasn’t attractive. How could she be? Both her parents were butt ugly. If she’d relied on her looks, she never would have married. Not that Herb was any prize. They’d still be living in that dinky little house in the South Valley if she had counted on him. She was the smart one. She knew that’s why he married her. She took care of things.

The fact that they now lived in this neighborhood proved her dogged determination. As a little girl, she dreamed one day she would have a big, fine house in the Northeast Heights.

And now this. A murder right next door, and she couldn’t even get in there. It wasn’t fair.

Winnie let the curtains fall back in place. The cops still came and went, milling around. But they were careful not to let anybody see exactly what they were doing. She just knew if they let her in, she could help them. It mattered little to her that she’d never been invited into the place, even when the owners were alive. She knew, in her deepest self, that she would find clues. Hadn’t she always found out everything her kids ever tried to hide from her? Hadn’t she discovered her slut of a daughter was pregnant before the little whore owned up to it? She fixed that problem all right. Saw to it a rich couple from back East adopted the baby. The cash she received from them made the down payment for her dream home.

If the cops knew about her resourcefulness and intelligence, they would surely ask for her help. But how to get their attention? Her conversation with that lieutenant earlier this morning didn’t get the reaction she’d hoped for. Of course she hadn’t been prepared when they came to her door so early. The one time in months she didn’t complete her routine before breakfast. She frowned, and pushed her brain to come up with a plan. And then the answer came to her, just like that.

She hurried to her sewing room. It wasn’t really a sewing room, of course. She hadn’t sewn anything in years. She’d overheard a couple of women at the market talking one day. One of them said every fine home had a sewing room. So Winnie went about turning her daughter’s old room into her own, personal sewing room. She used to sew, all the time, for herself, her family, and for people who paid her to make things for them. She still had her machine and all her supplies. But now it was just for show. The room actually camouflaged her private refuge, the place she could get away from everything and do her research.

She did lots and lots of research over the years. She had a computer over in the corner on its own little table. A quilt she made in the early days covered it. Beside that stood two big file cabinets full of information she had gathered. The drawers were labeled “Sewing Patterns” with other cryptic notations underneath. Herb once asked her what it all meant. She told him they were patterns she’d accumulated over the years. He’d lost interest after that.

Herb didn’t know about her other hobby, no one did. She gathered patterns all right. Her specialty was people and their patterns of behavior. Over the last thirty years, in all the places they lived, she watched people and kept notes. All her neighbors, their friends and visitors, the service people who came to repair things, all of them carefully recorded in her notebooks. Winnie always had her ear to the ground. She chuckled when she thought about that. There were so many ways to overhear stuff and keep track of what went on, and she employed them all at one time or another. It could pay handsome dividends.

Winnie consulted a notebook on her cutting table. Yes, here it was. Just the sort of thing she needed to get that nice looking police lieutenant to talk with her. She wouldn’t play her cards all at once, of course. She needed just enough to convince them she could be helpful. Once she got her foot in the door, she could tell for sure if what she saw last night might be important.

She pulled the business card out of the pocket of her apron. “Lieutenant Bob Swanson, Intel Unit, APD,” it said, and listed his phone number. What was she waiting for?

Then she realized she had one more thing to do first. How silly of her! Of course she had to do that before she brought the cops in. It wouldn’t take long and could make all the difference in what she told Lt. Swanson. After that, he’d ask for her help. She removed the quilt from her computer and turned it on. She smiled at her reflection in the monitor. Yes, being smart trumped being pretty. The brilliance of her plan made her giddy with delight. It had to work.

If she didn’t get in that house soon, she’d just die—absolutely die!

9

“So does Judge Connors have the power to grant the order of protection you’re talking about?” Harrie grabbed at the possibility this could all be resolved soon.

Steve said, “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. The first hurdle is getting him to grant a hearing. That could take days or even weeks, unless I can show exigent circumstances. After that we have to present our case, and it has to be a pretty compelling one to persuade the judge to bypass CYFD.” Steve held up his hands to forestall the words tumbling from Harrie.

“Hold on, Red. I just wanted to explain the worst case we’re facing. I think I can prove exigent cause to leapfrog over the process. But until I actually have a meeting with Judge Connors, I don’t want to be too quick to say it will work out the way you want.”

“Have you made contact with the judge yet?” DJ slipped his arm around Harrie’s shoulder, and she leaned on him, grateful for his support.

“No,” Steve said. “But I did speak to his secretary. She said if I get there before 10:30 a.m., I can probably grab him between sessions. That’s where I’m headed now.”

Ginger joined her husband. “Would it help if one of us went with you?”

“Actually, I think if DJ came with me things might move along faster. He could fill the judge in on the security aspect, as well as the fact that his office has endorsed letting Katie stay with him and Harrie.”

DJ nodded. “I’ll go change my clothes and be with you shortly.”

Swannie, who had been quiet during this exchange, cleared his throat. “Have you considered that this plan of yours might put you in danger? Harrie, if you do this thing, you should camp out away from here. It’s not a good idea to stay so close.”

Harrie shook her head. “I’m not going to be scared away from my own home. We’ll be fine. We have the security system, and DJ is armed to the teeth. How much safer could we be?”

“Still . . . ” Ginger frowned. “Maybe you should consider staying with us. We have lots of room.”

“Ginger, remember the last time I stayed with you? My cat and I took over your house. Now it would be me, my cat, DJ, and Katie. Don’t be such a worrywart. We’ll be fine.”

Swannie looked at each of them in turn. “The least I can do is order an extra patrol. It’s not a bad idea anyway. I have a feeling from the way the inside of that house was torn up, whoever did this didn’t leave with all he wanted.”

Harrie frowned. “You never said anything about the house being torn up.”

“Uh, yeah, well . . . I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned it. I just can’t get over the feeling we haven’t seen the last of this creep.”

Harrie’s eyes lit up. “Were the rooms on the second floor torn apart too? When we were at that house with Katie, DJ saw a figure watching us from a second floor window. Maybe they were searching upstairs, and we scared them away.”

“Do you remember which window?”

Harrie’s brow furrowed as she tried to recreate the scene in her mind. She gestured with her hands. “As we faced the house, there were four windows upstairs. DJ told me later the person was standing back, almost hidden from view, looking down from the second window on the right. Does that tell you anything?”

“Yes, it does. That was the room with the least disruption. We figured whoever got in there didn’t have enough time to finish. He must have decided to ‘book it’ when you guys showed up.”

Harrie felt a chill despite the warmth from the sun shining through the skylight above her. “I suppose it was a bedroom, right?”

Swannie nodded. “Yes, but we didn’t attach too much significance to the condition of the room. After all, aren’t most little kids’ rooms kind of messy? My kids’ rooms always were.”

As DJ returned to the group, a look of fear passed over Harrie’s face. He said, “Honey, what’s wrong?”

She turned to him. “We have to get custody of that child. Katie’s in danger. That monster was searching for
her
.”