Tahoe Dark (An Owen McKenna Mystery Thriller Book 14) (31 page)

“Getting back to my original question,” I said, “do you think it is reasonable to consider the truck robbery and the murders and the kidnapping as the work of a single man?”

It was a moment before George spoke. “Yes. Except for the killing by throwing a paddle board. That seems impulsive, the crime of a sociopath. Of course, that, too, could be acting. The psychopath may have purposely committed a crime that would look like a crime of passion rather than a crime that was carefully planned. The other crimes all required careful, advance planning. The robbers took meticulous steps to succeed at taking down an armored truck, and they took pains to disguise themselves. While some of the robbers may just be foot soldiers, the crime shows the planning of a psychopath. Committing murders with a ski pole and getting away with it shows equal planning. And pulling off a kidnapping demonstrates yet more complex planning. I can easily see one man behind it all.”

“Does it make sense that his motive was the money?”

George thought about it. “Yes, I think so. A half mil is a big piece of change. The murders were no doubt to cover it up and make it so the mastermind didn’t have to split the money.”

“As best as we can tell, the kidnapping only netted twenty-five thousand,” I said. “By comparison to the truck robbery, the kidnapping hardly seems worth it.”

“Perhaps the wildly divergent amounts of money were intended to make the crimes appear to have been committed by different individuals. But they could be connected in some unforseen way. They could have been planned concurrently.”

“Why would this guy kill the other robbers and not kill the kidnap victim?”

“That’s right,” George said. “You said the kidnap victim was tied up and left to die, but he survived. That indicates punishment. The kidnapper may have wanted the relatively small ransom fee. But it seems that the primary motive was to torture the kidnap victim. A classic crime of a psychopath. Torture is as dark as the human psyche can get. No empathy at all.”

We were silent for a bit. I said, “Here’s a thought. If I could find someone who hated the kidnap victim and also exhibited dark triad characteristics, I might have a good suspect?”

“Indeed,” George said.

We spoke some more, I thanked him, we said goodbye, and I made a mental note to send him a case of wine.

FORTY-ONE

My cell phone rang while I was out walking Spot and drinking my third cup of coffee.

“Hey McKenna, Bains here. Courtesy call.”

“It should be a hallmark of cops, right, sergeant?”

“Yeah. Protect and serve and be courteous. Anyway, after you told me about Evan Rosen and the evidence connecting her to the robbers who were murdered, I drove up to Tahoe Vista yesterday afternoon after we spoke. Because she lives in Placer County, I’d informed Sergeant Jack Santiago of Placer County. He had me meet one of his deputies, Deputy Russo, to accompany me when I spoke with Evan Rosen. She was not especially forthcoming.”

“She didn’t answer your questions?”

“She did. Reluctantly. Lots of anger. But to be fair, I think the anger was because I caused her to miss a cleaning appointment. She claimed to be worried about losing the client on account of she really needed the money. But I think that was probably a false representation.”

“Why?” I said.

“Wait ’til I explain. Her answers to my questions didn’t all add up. When I said that she’d been seen with a lot of cash, she got all bent out of shape and started yelling that I didn’t have a clue what it was like to live on the margin of society, having to pay everything with cash. When she raised her arms and stomped around in a circle, Deputy Russo put his hand on her elbow to try to calm her down.”

“No, don’t tell me,” I said, knowing where he was going.

“Sorry. She struck him on the shoulder, closed fist. That girl can pack a real punch. So he arrested her.”

“You and the deputy didn’t see that as unnecessary escalation?” I said.

“You know how it works. In a situation like that, a cop has to rely on his gut instinct. In fact, it seems to me that you talked about the whole gut instinct thing just yesterday.”

Bains didn’t say it like a barb, but it felt like it anyway.

“Anyway,” he said, “it was her reaction, to use your words, that was an unnecessary escalation. Before he arrested her, Mike asked me what I thought. The truth is that her actions made me think that there was something else going on. So I told him that he knew the rules. He nodded and arrested for her for assaulting a police officer. We put her in the back of the Placer County patrol unit. Of course, that arrest allowed us to do a protective sweep and warrantless search of her residence. It didn’t take long for us to find two thousand-plus dollars hidden behind her garbage under the kitchen sink. That gave us probable cause that a crime had been committed. So we had to seize those assets.”

I was breathing hard. When I’d originally told Bains what I knew about Evan, I knew it could come to this, but I hadn’t wanted it, nor did I expect it.

“Are you there?” Bains said.

“Yeah. Go on.”

“Her closet has one of those shelves across the top. The shelf was stacked with pants and sweatshirts. At the back, under the clothes, was a ski pole. No basket, no handle. The open end was notched and flared just like the murder weapons. It had been wiped down, but it was still a bit slippery.”

“Olive oil?” I said.

“Smells like it. Considering the hidden ski pole spear and cash, and what you said about Ms. Rosen having substantial animosity toward the murder victims as well as the shirt with the missing button that matches the one found in the robber vic’s hand, and we’ve got a good case against her.”

“Where is Evan now?” I said, even though I guessed the answer.

“We requested her transfer from Placer County to El Dorado County. At this point, I don’t know if Placer County is charging her with resisting arrest. We’re now holding her in the South Lake Tahoe Jail. The El Dorado Assistant DA was informed about what we found, and he’s charged her with two counts of first degree murder.”

When I got off the phone with Bains, I had to sit and think a minute. I hadn’t moved, yet I was breathing hard.

It had been the information I provided Bains that led to Evan’s murder charge. The evidence was mostly circumstantial, although the shirt button found in the victim’s hand would maybe turn out to be direct evidence, compelling enough to convince a jury to convict her.

In providing the information to Bains, I hadn’t done anything technically wrong. But I felt like I’d made a grave mistake, and I’d just been too dense to have seen a better approach. It gave me a giant discomfort, a hollow feeling that felt like a precursor to a heart attack.

I imagined what Evan must be thinking. Either she’d been guilty and was caught or she’d been wrongly charged. If the charge was wrong, then either she’d been the victim of an extraordinary set of coincidences or she’d been elaborately framed.

Regardless of the seriousness of the charge, Evan’s main concern would be Mia. It seemed that Mia could handle the basics of taking care of herself for at least a day or two. But I didn’t know what her state of mind would be. Would Evan’s sudden absence be incapacitating? Would she fall apart or just be worried and scared? I was pretty sure that Mia didn’t drive, but would she walk to the store for food? Did she have money? Evan would have been given a phone call. Would she have called a lawyer? Or Mia?

I felt at least partially responsible for Mia. Someone should at least reassure her. I would visit Evan as soon as possible, but it would be best if I could tell her that Mia was okay.

I took Spot, and we drove up to Tahoe Vista. I parked in front of the motel apartments. Mia would recognize and feel friendly with Spot much faster than with me. So I took Spot with me, and we walked up to the end unit.

I knocked and then stood back so that Spot and I wouldn’t intimidate whoever opened the door.

There was no response, so I knocked again.

I heard the sound of a door down the walk. A white-haired woman looked out. The babysitter I’d seen before.

“Hi, Mattie, I’m Owen McKenna. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound disrespectful, but I don’t know your last name. You may have seen me giving Evan and Mia rides when her car was stolen. I’m looking for Mia. Any idea where she is?”

The woman thought about it. She turned and leaned into her apartment but left her hand on the doorjamb. In a moment, she came out, shut the door behind her, and walked down to me, moving slower as she got close, her eyes on Spot. She came to a stop several feet away. She stared at Spot.

“Don’t worry, he’s friendly,” I said.

“Do you know where Evan is?” She tried to make the question sound straightforward, but I could sense the fear and worry in her voice.

“Yes. As Evan may have told you, I’m an investigator, and I’ve been in contact with the police regarding the murder of one of her customers, David Montrop. I don’t want to alarm Mia or you, but Evan has been arrested and charged with murder.” I didn’t bother to explain that the charge was for the murder of the robbers and not the murder of Montrop.

The woman raised her hand to her mouth, her open palm against her lips. Her eyes were wide and terrified.

I said, “Evan is currently being held at the South Lake Tahoe jail. I’m going there to visit her as soon as visiting hours open. In the meantime, I wanted to check on Mia and make sure she’s okay.”

The woman didn’t speak.

“I don’t think we should tell Mia that Evan’s in jail,” I said. “At least not right away. Maybe we could just say that Evan’s talking to the police and she’ll be back as soon as she can. Mia likes my dog. Petting him might reassure her.”

Eventually, the woman spoke. “Mia’s with me. When the cops came to their apartment and took Evan away, Mia became very upset. Very upset,” she repeated. “Let me think,” she added. After a bit, she said, “How long do you think it will take to get Evan out of jail?”

“I don’t know.” I didn’t want to say that it might not happen. “Could you take care of Mia for a few days? Or at least look in on her or whatever would help? You know better than I do what Mia needs.”

“She can stay with me,” the woman said. “I have some things coming up that I’m supposed to do, but I can cancel them.”

“Thank you. Do you need money or anything?”

She shook her head. “I think you’re right about your dog. I’ll bring Mia out, and you can tell her that Evan will be gone for a bit.”

The woman went back to her apartment and went inside. A minute later, she came back out with Mia. She’d put Mia’s hand around the back of her elbow so that it appeared that Mia was helping Mattie walk. It seemed a smart move, giving Mia a sense of purpose that would distract from Evan’s absence.

“Hi Mia,” I said. “Remember me, Owen McKenna? I wanted to stop by so you could visit Spot.”

Mia’s eyes and cheeks were red from crying. Seeing Spot seemed to immediately distract her. She didn’t smile, but she let go of Mattie and walked to Spot. She bent over to hug him.

Like a trained therapy dog, he wagged but didn’t move. He was happy to have her weight on his back.

“Mia,” I said, “Spot and I came to tell you that Evan will be gone for a day or two. Mattie said you can stay with her. If there’s anything you need from me, Mattie can call me. Will that be okay?”

Mia didn’t respond to me. She kept hugging Spot.

“Mia, I’m going to be seeing Evan. Is there anything you want me to tell her from you?”

Mia’s eyes were shut. She didn’t appear to hear me.

I looked at Mattie. She made a little nod. She pointed down at Spot’s head and mouthed the words, ‘This is good.’

We waited a bit, then Mattie tapped Mia on the shoulder. “Come, Mia, we have to let Owen go back to work.”

Gradually, Mia released Spot and stood. She pet Spot on his head, making precise careful strokes between his ears.

Mattie spoke, “Mia, Owen wants to know if you have a message for Evan.”

Mia seemed to chew on her cheek. “I’m going to ask TB for fairy dust, and I’ll sprinkle it for Evan.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll tell her.”

“Say goodbye to Spot,” Mattie said. Mattie took Mia’s hand, placed it inside of her elbow, and had Mia walk her back to her apartment. After they were inside, Mattie came back out. She handed me a piece of paper.

“Here’s my phone number. Call when you learn something?”

“Will do.” I handed Mattie my card. “Thanks,” I said. “Evan will really appreciate that you’re looking after Mia.”

Mattie nodded.

“One question about Mia’s message,” I said. “What does TB refer to?”

“Tinkerbell.”

“Ah.” I gave Mattie a smile, and Spot and I left.

FORTY-TWO

When I got home, I called the El Dorado County Jail in South Lake Tahoe.