The Burnt House (35 page)

Holmes continued to speak. “As soon as it happened, I knew we were in big trouble. I did time for burglary in a medium-security place and that was bad enough. I wasn’t about to go to Santa Fe Correctional and do real hard time. My old man was there. We both knew what Santa Fe Correctional was from visiting him. No fucking way that we were going down because some little bitch couldn’t control her mouth!”

Decker nodded encouragingly. “About what time of the day did it happen?”

“Not late, but it was after dark. I don’t know. Maybe around six. I don’t remember.”

“Okay. So what happened after you realized she wasn’t moving?”

“I remember feeling paralyzed. I didn’t know what the fuck to do. I was in a strange city and I had no friends and here I was with a dead bitch and
I
didn’t even kill her. I told Manny that we’d better just get the hell out. My baby brother’s reaction was funny. He was calm and collected. Maybe he even felt good about it. She’d been getting on his case for a long, long time and he had enough I guess. He was the smooth one. He told me to help him wrap up the body and he’d take care of it. So that’s what I did. I helped him wrap the body. I helped him load it into Manny’s pickup. Then Manny took it from there. I don’t know what he did with it. I never asked and he didn’t say.”

“How long was he away?”

“I don’t know. A couple of hours maybe. I was cleaning up the mess while he was gone.”

“And you don’t remember when Manny returned to the apartment?”

“I remember it was late. We spent the night packing up the truck, and the next day, Manny took out the rest of the church money from the bank. We needed everything we could get our hands on.” Holmes took in a breath and let it out. “Manny wanted us to go together, but I wanted
o-u-t,
out, know what I mean?” He pointed to his chest. “I didn’t kill her; he did. Let him figure it out. Besides, I could tell he was scared. The adrenaline had worn off and I didn’t want him to freak out while I was around. I told him to take the truck and go, that I’d take care of myself. I told him to look me up in Arizona in about six months after everything had calmed down. He never did call me. I never saw or heard from him again. I don’t know what happened to him, if he’s alive or dead or what.”

Sure you don’t,
Decker thought. “Where’d you go after the two of you split up?”

“I hitched a ride to Las Vegas. I played the tables and turned my measly grand into five big ones. I lived it up for about a week—booze, drugs, hookers, you name it. I was the happiest that I’ve ever been in my life.”

“What happened after that week?”

“What do you think?” Holmes laughed. “Booze, drugs, and hookers cost money. I left glitter city with about three hundred in my pocket, and thumbed a ride to Arizona. I rolled up my sleeves, learned the construction business, and became a working stiff. I started paying taxes, and I’ve been a solid citizen ever since then.”

“And you never heard from Manny again?” Decker asked.

“Not a whisper. Maybe I should have reported my brother…let Beth’s parents know what happened. Maybe I shouldn’t have helped him wrap the body or clean up the mess. But fuck, he was my baby brother and he was in trouble and he got into trouble trying to help me out. I felt responsible, but not responsible enough to take the fall for something I
didn’t
do.”

Decker nodded. There was a lot about his story that rang true. Maybe Beth and Manny were arguing about the money. And it made sense that, during the argument, someone got pissed and bashed Beth over the head. Maybe it was Raymond/Belize, or maybe it was Manny. The one thing that was certain in Decker’s mind was that one of the brothers killed Beth.

It also made sense to Decker that Manny had buried Beth and didn’t tell his brother where. Why else would Holmes stick around after Decker and Marge had paid him an initial visit? They had told him that an old body had been discovered under the debris of the ruined apartment building. That meant nothing to Holmes because he had no idea where Beth had been buried. The contractor didn’t know L.A. all that well. It would have taken quite a stretch for Holmes to assume that the body they had found had been his dead sister-in-law. At the time of the interview, he had stated that he thought the discovered body was Roseanne Dresden.

That had probably been the truth.

Still, Holmes’s spiel was distinctly different from the recitation given to Decker by Holmes’s father, Martin Hernandez. The old man had stated that Belize had confessed to murdering Beth even though he didn’t mean to kill her. Hernandez also kept reiterating that Manny was dead.

Now, how would Hernandez know that Manny was dead unless he knew the person who had killed him? The old man had stopped short of implicating his older son in the death of his younger one, but by insisting that Manny was long dead, he pointed the arrow in that direction.

Decker wasn’t positive which one killed Beth, but he was pretty damn sure that Belize had killed Manny. In Decker’s mind, Belize’s formal name change to Raymond Holmes was Holmes’s odd way of honoring his dead brother, Ramon Hernandez.

Decker said, “You want to tell me about Roseanne Dresden now?”

“Oh God!” Holmes slapped his face. “I don’t
know
what happened to Roseanne! Before she disappeared, I hadn’t seen her in six fucking months!”

“I don’t know if I believe you, Ray.”

“Why not? I have been perfectly honest with you about everything else. I told you what happened with my brother, I told you about the money, I told you that I helped wrap the body, I told you I cleaned up the mess. I told you everything I know.” Holmes mopped up his face. “I have nothing more to say.”

“It’s too late,” Dudley told him. “He’s going to arrest you for murder now.”

Decker said, “You probably should have listened to your lawyer, Mr. Holmes.”

“Why?” Holmes started sweating again, pools of sweat shooting out from his overworked pores. “C’mon. I was honest with you. I told you everything. I even took a fucking lie-detector test about Roseanne. How can you arrest me for
murder
after all that?”

“I just figure I’ll serve the warrant and let the D.A. sort it out.”

“You fucking bastard! You don’t have a leg to stand on because I didn’t do it!”

“I told you not to talk, Ray,” Dudley said.

“You’re a fucking bastard, too,” Holmes shouted. “You’re fired.”

“Fine,” Dudley told him. “You go convince some rookie PD to set your bail.”

“Wait! You’re not fired!” Holmes looked desperate. “Please, Taz, I’m sorry. Don’t leave me alone!”

Dudley said, “I will represent you, but now, it’s not so simple. I’ll need a fifteen-thousand-dollar retainer, and another fifteen in two weeks. If you’re short on cash, I’ll take the deed to the house on Chase as collateral.”

“You two gentlemen can continue this conversation a little later in the quiet of a jail room. Right now Holmes has a date with Ms. Miranda.”

H
ELLO, STRANGER.”

Rina had met Decker in the driveway of their home, greeting him with a smile and a huge terry-cloth robe cinched around her small waist, slippers on her feet. Stars blinked above, and the moon served as a spotlight. Although spring was fast becoming summer, there was a chill in the air as fog began to roll into the valley basin.

Decker spoke softly. “Don’t tell me. In my absence, Cindy’s and Koby’s house is done, Sam married Rachel, Jake has a serious girlfriend, and Hannah is in college.”

“Now, how did you know all that?” Rina looped her arm around his and they walked arm in arm into the house.

Decker pulled her into a hug. “Man, it’s great to be back. Is the princess home?”

“It’s one in the morning on a school night. Princess is home and sleeping. Where is your low-down, dirty scoundrel?”

“We’re working on the papers to bring him to Los Angeles. If all goes well, he’ll be gracing our jails in a few days.”

“How about something to eat?”

“Actually, I’m starving. But I need to shower first.”

“No problem. How about a corned-beef sandwich? Or is that too much at one in the morning?”

“My internal clock is haywire. A sandwich sounds great. Slather one with lots of mustard and mayo. Mustard for Akiva the Jew, mayo for Peter the goy.”

She laughed. “Coleslaw? Or will that put you over the top?”

“Just pile it high and deep. I’ll meet you at the dining-room table.”

A half hour later Decker was wiping his mouth, his stomach not quite sure if it wanted to be pleasantly full or gluttonous. The matter was decided when Decker found out that there was no more corned beef or rye bread.

“I saved the last bits just for you.” Rina sipped chamomile tea. “It’s not easy defending corned beef against a horde of hungry teenagers.”

“‘Hungry teenagers’ means boys.”

“Specifically Hannah’s gruesome twosome.”

“Tzvika and Michael?”

“Who else?”

“What’s up with that?” Decker asked. “The boys are best friends and they both like her?”

“But she’s not interested in either of them.”

“So why does she hang around them all the time?”

“I think she likes the attention.”

Decker rolled his eyes. “We’re going to have to watch that one. She’s swatting them away like flies.”

“It’s when she stops swatting them away that we have to worry.”

“Now that’s true.” Decker took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I think I’m going to Santa Fe
again
.”

“Ah…you want to break the news to Beth’s parents in person.”

“No, I already phoned them up as soon as we booked Raymond Holmes.”

“What was their reaction?”

“They were low-key.” Decker drained his water glass. “Peter thanked me. Sandra invited us out to Santa Clara Feast Day as their guests. It’s in August.”

“By then you’ll know the town pretty well.”

“I’ll know Santa Fe Correctional, if you want a tour. I’ll need to go back there and go over the old man’s testimony with him.”

“Belize’s father?”

“Yes. Martin Hernandez. He’s our main witness against Holmes and I don’t have a good feeling about him. The kind of man who’d sell his son down the river is not going to be a likable or credible witness. He’s also old. A lot of questions confuse him.”

Decker sat back and looked at the ceiling. “The murder charge depends on the old man’s testimony and he’s got a believability issue. Also, the jury is going to find out that the old man is getting early release in exchange for his testimony. That’s going to take away the last little bits of whatever integrity the man had.”

“Well, Belize is locked up and that’s a start. Just like I said, ‘What goes around comes around.’”

“It doesn’t bring Beth back.”

“We all die, Peter. If you’re religious like I am, you believe that G-d metes out true justice.” She took his hand. “You gave a definitive answer to a question that has been plaguing a family for over thirty horrible years. Furthermore, Belize will get some kind of punishment. You made sure of that. You did your part for G-d and country.”

“Thanks.” Decker picked up Rina’s teacup and took a sip. “I appreciate the nice words. The big question mark right now is Manny; is he dead or alive?”

“And what do you think?”

“I think he’s dead. I don’t know who killed Beth, but I’m pretty sure that Belize killed Manny. Belize had no intention of going back to prison and his brother was just too much of a liability. When I talk to the parents, I’m going to imply that Belize killed Manny and Beth. Like
I said, it won’t bring Beth back, but it might make them feel better to know that her own husband didn’t kill her. And as you said, Belize is guilty of something.”

Rina pushed her teacup in front of Decker. “Are you going to try to implicate Holmes in Roseanne Dresden’s disappearance?”

“I’d love to do it, but I don’t see how I can.” Decker sipped the herbal mixture, feeling warmth penetrate his achy body as the hot liquid slid down his throat. “All I have is Holmes’s last call to Roseanne three months before her disappearance.”

“Not enough for a warrant?”

“Not nearly. Besides, I’m not sure he had anything to do with Roseanne. Right before I left for San Jose, Wanda found a witness who saw Roseanne’s Beemer speeding out of the condo’s parking facilities on the morning of the crash.”

Rina nodded. “Do you think it was Roseanne speeding off to make the flight?”

“That’s one theory. The other is that someone else was speeding off in her car to dump her body. We’re trying to gather enough evidence for a warrant to search the car. If someone stashed her body in the backseat or the trunk, we might be able to pull up some forensic evidence.”

“But even if you dredge up something forensic, how would you know it wasn’t Roseanne’s hair from before?”

“We’re looking for large amounts of her blood. That’s the only thing that’s going to give us a warrant. If she bled out in the car, we’d have blood evidence in the crevices of the seats, not to mention all the carpets. If the hubby did some redecorating of the Beemer right after Roseanne died—things like reupholstered the seats or changed the carpets—then maybe, just maybe, it would look suspicious enough for a judge to give us a warrant to get into the car.”

“Any evidence that it happened?”

“We’ve got zilch so far.” Decker checked his watch. “But I’ve got six and a half hours before I show up at my desk. Who knows what the night will bring?”

FARLEY LODESTONE WAS
livid over the phone. “You got this guy who was stalking my daughter in custody for killing some other lady thirty years ago, and you’re saying that you’re
not
charging him with my daughter’s murder?”

Decker said, “I would love to charge him in conjunction with your daughter’s disappearance, Farley, but I don’t have any evidence—”

“For Christ sakes, Decker, he already admitted to killing a lady. Ain’t that enough evidence?”

Raymond Holmes hadn’t admitted to killing anyone. He was still blaming Beth’s death on his missing brother, Manny. Holmes was keeping his story as consistent as a metronome. The subtle difference between being booked on murder and tampering with evidence was lost on the old man.

“Farley, I am committed to your daughter’s case. I will not rest until I have answers. And if Holmes is the answer, he’ll be charged. Right now we’ve got a classic catch-22. I have to have evidence to get a warrant to get evidence.”

“Well, then change the goddamn system!”

“I wish I could—”

“So this monster is gonna walk?”

“You mean Holmes?”

“Yes, I mean Holmes. Who the hell else would I be talking about? This bastard murdered my daughter and you’re sitting on your hands!”

Just a few days ago, Lodestone had been insistent that Ivan had murdered Roseanne. Of course Holmes’s arrest had changed all that. Although Farley still detested Ivan, he was now aiming his considerable wrath at the contractor. Ivan Dresden was also venting about Holmes to Decker. At last the two men had something in common. It seemed that everyone
loved
Ray Holmes as Roseanne’s killer.

Decker said, “Farley, no one has been ruled out.”

“And no one has been arrested, either.”

“That’s correct. We’re being very careful because we don’t want any of our hard work thrown out because of procedural errors.” Decker could hear grousing over the phone. “Look, Farley. The case that we’re working on now—the one that involves Raymond Holmes—is over thirty years old. We’re tenacious buggers. We don’t give up just because things are hard.”

Silence.

Decker said, “I’m making every effort I can to find out what happened to Roseanne. And I have no reason to think that we won’t solve the case.”

More silence.

“Are you there, Farley?”

“Yeah, I’m still here.”

Decker groaned inwardly. “I’m doing the best I can. I understand that my best isn’t always enough. I’m sorry about that. But I promise you, I’ll keep at it.”

Maybe we’ll get lucky,
he thought to himself.

Lodestone finally spoke. “The parents of the dead girl that you found. Are they still alive?”

“Yes, they’re still alive.”

“How old are they?”

“In their seventies.”

“Nice people?”

“Lovely.”

“And they’ve been in the dark about their daughter for over thirty years?”

“Yes.”

“My, my, my. Now, that is humbling.” The old man’s voice had turned soft. “You gonna talk to them again? The parents?”

“Yes. I’m sure I’ll be talking to them quite a bit in the days to come.”

Lodestone was uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. When he finally found his voice, it cracked. “When you see ’em, send ’em my best.”

“I’ll do that, Farley.” Decker felt his throat swell. “I know they’ll appreciate your good wishes.”

The line disconnected. Decker rubbed his moist eyes and took a moment to simply breathe. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. The conversation had left his voice dry and he slugged down a bottle of water. Then he rolled up his shirtsleeves and went to work.