R.P. Dahlke - Dead Red 04 - A Dead Red Alibi (10 page)

Pearlie nodded. “That’s the plan.”

Reina got off the couch, her motion lethargic as she drifted over to a ceramic dish on the kitchen counter. “Here’s my card. If you need any help, anything at all, please let me know.”

As I took the card, I noticed how cold her thin hands were and wondered if Bethany’s murder was taking a toll on her health. But when my eyes met hers, I saw an undercurrent of fear that I found at odds with her earlier stance with the tough boyfriend. If she wasn’t afraid of him, then what was Reina Schmidt
afraid of?

.

Chapter Seventeen:

The walk from Reina Schmidt’s cabin to the Jeep didn’t take long, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that this young woman was keeping a secret and it was wearing a hole in her heart. And what was up with the boyfriend? In spite of his tattoos and surly demeanor, we had no way of knowing his history. I would have Caleb check.

Pearlie repeated the process of hooking the stirrup to the door frame on the Jeep and hopped into her seat. When she took out her notebook, I pointed to Reina’s name.

“Julio certainly didn’t want us alone with her, did he?”

“No, and even without him picking on her, she doesn’t look healthy.”

Pearlie had been sexually abused as a teenager and her empathy toward another vulnerable young woman could just as easily obscure the truth.

“She’s tougher than she looks, Pearlie,” I said. “She made him leave, didn’t she?”

“He did, but did you notice her watching us for a reaction when she told us his name? Julio Castillo. Maybe he’s a wanted criminal.”

“We should have Caleb run his name for prior convictions,” I said.

Pearlie snorted indelicately. “Sure thing,
Cuz. As long as you don’t mind getting a load of grief ‘cause we’re investigating Bethany’s murder.”

“Yeah, I suppose, but I keep going back to Reina’s words, that she was
‘
better here than anywhere else
.’ What do you think she meant by that?”

“
How should I know?” Pearlie’s voice had an edge to it, “and don’t go all psychic on me now, I don’t have a card for that.”

“I don’t know. It’s just that if she’s keeping secrets, whatever it is may not be something we can find on the internet.”

Pearlie shrugged. “Folks are going to want to protect secrets even if it has nothing to do with a crime.” She waved at the broad valley as if encompassing all of it into her plans. “We’re just going to have to find ourselves a spy in the sheriff’s office.”

Knowing Pearlie, she would immediately be on the
lookout for one that was tall, dark and handsome, too.

I took one last look at the property my great
-aunt Mae used to own, seeing it in the eyes of the people who needed a sanctuary for their own reasons: Bethany because of her physical deformity, the enigmatic Reina with her unhappy secrets, and Jason Stark, who may or may not know more than he was saying.

The place did have an air of peaceful serenity about it, if you didn’t count the layer of fear left behind by a cold-blooded killer.

~~~~~~~~~~

At home, my dad came out of the barn wiping his hands on a greasy rag. “Where the hell have you two been?”

I tried to deflect his irritation with a question of my own. “Have you got it running yet?”

“I can’t get the parts I need if you leave me stranded here without the Jeep.”

Pearlie slipped out of the Jeep and gave my dad her most charming smile. “I’ll bet you could use some hot lunch. How ‘bout I heat up the leftovers from last night’s chicken cacciatore?”

At the mention of food, Dad completely forgot why he was annoyed with us and followed Pearlie into the house.

I wasn’t so lucky with Caleb. He leaned on the Jeep, his arms crossed to show he had no intention of letting this slide. “I don’t see any grocery bags.”

“Huh?”

“Food. Groceries. You were going to the store?”

I was happy to have him here, wasn’t I? And hadn’t we promised to be honest with each other? Why would I consider keeping this secret from the one person who could help the most? It wasn’t fun to lie to him anymore, not after all we’d been through, so I told him.

“Pearlie has been hired to investigate Bethany Coker’s murder.”

His sandy brows corkscrewed up in disbelief.

“Scout’s honor,” I said, holding up two fingers.

He reached over and took hold of the fingers. “It’s three fingers for scouts, not two.”

I shrugged. “I’m telling the truth.”

“She doesn’t have a P.I. license and who in their right mind would hire Pearlie?”

“The father of the murdered artist. The poor man is desperate for help, a lead, anything. And the sheriff’s department won’t tell him a thing.”

I tried not to look at Caleb’s face thinking how many ways this could go wrong.

“Naturally, this will go better if you help,” I added.

He groaned. “This is not just Pearlie’s gig, is it? It’s you and your cousin, right?”

“How could we turn him down, Caleb? Besides, you said the detectives might yet try to stick these murders on my dad.”

“On a scale of one to ten, that argument is a two. And that’s only because I don’t want to think about what could happen if they don’t find a better suspect.”

“I
know
. It just broke my heart to see those detectives grill him the way they did. The poor old guy is a heart patient, for cryin’ out loud. Honestly, Caleb,” I said, letting my hand flutter over my heart. “I think it would kill him to have to go through that again.”

My dad ambled out of the house, a toothpick hanging off his lip. Seeing us, he motioned for me to hand over the keys to his Jeep. “Your lunch is waiting and I don’t have all day, missy.”

Accepting the keys, he hopped in, and without another word, sped off, leaving us in his dusty wake.

Caleb stared after the Jeep, shook his head and turned for the house.

I ran to catch up. “So what do you think? Will you help?”

“I think,” he said, putting an arm arou
nd my waist so we could walk together, “that you’re fronting your dad’s heart issues for your own interests. But for Noah’s sake, I’ll help.”

Pearlie was sitting at the table writing in her notebook. “Hey, Caleb. What’s up?”

“I’m in,” Caleb said and went to work on his lunch.

At her perplexed expression, I explained to her how I’d brought him into our investigation. She took it surprisingly well.

Ever pragmatic, Cousin Pearlie then turned her considerable charm on Caleb. “Witnesses
are
more likely to talk to a couple of women than they are to suits with badges.”

“Leave well enough alone, Pearlie,” he said, digging into the leftovers.

Pearlie tried again, “We’ve already made a really good start.”

“How’s that?” he asked, wiping his mouth on a napkin.

I cringed when she told him how we dodged under the crime scene tape and searched Bethany’s bedroom.

“Homicide
already searched it,” I added. “We needed to look around to get an idea of what she was like. When I remarked about the blackout shades in her room, her dad said she had migraines, but there were no meds in her bathroom.”

Caleb shrugged. “I couldn’t say what the detectives would take for evidence.
They might collect the contents of her medicine cabinet for fingerprints.”

“We also learned that she had a genetic facial deformity and
she had drugs for migraines.”

“
It could’ve been a burglar looking for drugs,” Pearlie added. “And when he found Bethany at home, decided to rape and strangle her.”

“You talked to the residents?” Caleb asked.

“No one said we couldn’t,” Pearlie huffed. “There’re only two of them. Reina Schmidt lives in one of the two studio cabins, and she has a suspicious looking boyfriend we’d like for you to check out.”

Caleb put down his fork and pulled out his notebook. “Name?”

“Julio Castillo,” Pearlie said, watching him write. “She said he has a paint and body shop in Tucson, but with the line of tats and his bad attitude, we think he might be trouble.”

Caleb put down his pencil. “I can get DMV records and any convictions off the appropriate data bases.”

“See?” I added cheerfully, “we’re a team already.”

“
You said there were two artists?” he asked.

“Jason Stark is the only other artist living
there,” I said. “He said he was working when Bethany was killed and I could see how he wouldn’t have heard anything. He was wearing one of those welder helmets and didn’t notice us until we stepped between him and the bronze he was working on.”

Caleb wrote down the name and another notation. “Go on.”

“Jason,” Pearlie said, consulting her notes, “thought the killer might’ve been a Mexican transporting drugs through the property.”

“Yes,” Caleb said. “I’m told this is a corridor for
smugglers.”

“They’d be just the type of criminals to think nothing of killing Bethany and a police chief,” Pearlie said.

Caleb crossed his arms over his chest, looking from me to Pearlie. “Then why go to the trouble of moving the chief’s body out of the house and dumping it into an abandoned mine pit?”

Caleb wanted us to see something we were missing.

“Oh. The deputy said the police chief was supposed to be leaving for a fishing trip to Wyoming,” I said. “They wouldn’t have a reason to start looking for him for at least another week.”

“
Yeah,” Pearlie said. “Everyone in town would’ve known when and where the police chief was going on his vacation. It’s someone who lives here in Wishbone. It could even be another cop.”

“Yep,” Caleb said, unwinding his arms and dragging me to him. “And that’s why you two have to tell me where you’re going, when you’ll be back, and for God’s sake, stay in cell phone range. And Pearlie, keep that Lady Smith with you at all times, will you?”

Pearlie nodded, eyes wide, suddenly with nothing to say.

When Caleb picked up the lunch plates and utensils, I pointed to Pearlie’s notebook and towed
her out the door.

“He thinks best doing the dishes,” I said.

“Really? All the men I know do their best thinking with me under them.”

“We didn’t tell him about the CD we lifted from Bethany’s room or that her laptop might be missing.”

“When we see Mac Coker we’ll ask if that laptop is on the evidence list. If it isn’t, we can talk to Reina and Jason again.”

“And if they don’t know anything?”

She examined her nails. “I think I need a manicure. As a matter of fact, I think my hair could use a touch up and I’m sure you could use some highlights—or do you do lowlights? Yeah, that and a pedicure. That’s what we need.”

I don’t color my hair, but I could tell that she wasn’t thinking hair color as much as she was thinking about acquiring some gossip, and there’s no better place for gossip than the local beauty parlor.

“Let’s look through our brand new phone book for one,” I said.

“What about transportation?” Pearlie asked.

“Dad will be back soon,” I said. “He’s anxious to get Uncle Ed’s race car in working order.”

We went inside and thumbed through the listings for beauty parlors.

There were two in Wishbone. “Which one?” I asked.

She grinned. “Let me,” she said, dialing a number.

When someone answered, Pearlie did what she did best—sound like a ditsy blond. “Yes, my cousin and I are visitin’ her new place here. Would you have any openings for this afternoon? What? Well, a touch up of our roots, and a pedicure for her and a mani for me—if you could squeeze us in? But not today, huh? Our names? It’s Pearlie and Lalla Bains—if you think—well, sure thing, sugah. Bye now.”

“No luck?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. Let me try another shop.”

Pearlie went through the same spiel, and with the same results, she smacked her lips. “I need ice cream. Think there’s any left?”

She took one step toward the fridge and the phone rang. Pearlie smirked and answered the phone.

“Hello? Yes, this is she. Tomorrow?
Both of us? Well, now ain’t that sweet of you. Yes, we’ll be there.” She hung up and this time made it all the way to the fridge. Opening the freezer compartment, she took out a container of Chunky Monkey.

“Well?” I asked
, getting the bowls and spoons.

“Told you, didn’t I? It’s the same in small towns everywhere. The minute I told them our names I knew she’d call back.”

As Pearlie and I were licking the last of the ice cream off our spoons, Dad strolled into the house and dropped the Jeep keys into a bowl on the side table.

“Any of that ice cream left or do I have to turn around and go back into town?”

“No one has to go into town,” I said. “There’s plenty of Chunky Monkey to go around.”