Code 61 - Donald Harstad [142]
“And?” I asked.
“Peale was busted here back in ninety-three,” he said. “Didn't you get our fuckin' reply to your inquiry?”
“Oh, yeah! Yeah, okay. Consensual blood ingestion, wasn't that it? And some involvement with a juvie, too.”
“You got it. Want to guess who the fuckin' juvie was?”
“Hutha Mann,” said Hester. “Hutha Mann, a/k/a Tatiana Ostransky, right?”
“You got it.” He laughed.
“The plot thickens,” I said. “So, what did he do to her?”
“Probably a statutory sex thing, I bet. The reporting officer says that she was not a complainant in the matter. She was seventeen at the time, so she could have legally consented, but this Peale dude provided her with booze, and since she was not able to consent to drinking, and she was intoxicated at the time she was discovered, he was in problems.”
“Ouch.” I grinned. “Bad choices, there.”
“Yeah. He didn't get shit out of it, with the plea bargain and everything.” Harry shrugged. “She had a fresh cut on her lip, but she claimed that was an accident.”
“I'll just bet she did,” said Hester.
“Now, here's the good part,” said Harry. “The guy who was in charge of that bust retires next week, but he was in, and he said that Jessica Hunley was involved in the edges of the case. She wasn't at the cabin at the time they made the arrests, but the Hunleys' attorney came to the cop shop and made everybody's bail. And this Hutha Mann, a/k/a Tatiana, gave her address as a place that turned out to be Jessica Hunley's fuckin' dance studio.”
“No shit?” I said. “So they go way back as a group, then.” “Apparently so,” he said, looking very satisfied with himself.
We walked over for lunch at a great place called Popeyes. Multiple levels, it had a maritime décor and a great menu. Well, a cop would think so.
“It must be great,” I said, “to work in a town that has restaurants like this.” There was a faint, multi-tone sound, and Hester pulled her cell phone from her pocket. She answered it, and then held it out to me. “For you. Your office.”
I took the phone. “Yeah?”
“Carl, Lamar. Nothin' major, but the attorney we got to talk to to get in the old mine won't be in until tomorrow sometime. Is this a problem?”
“No, I don't think so.” I didn't think we'd be back there until then, anyway. “I'd appreciate it if you'd look for some sign, down at the highway level, where somebody might have gone over the fence, or something. Stack of crates? Rocks? We think there's a really good chance our buddy might have made it down there pretty fast that night.”
“Borman and Knockle are already up there, and everything is okay, as far as they can tell. Most of the kids up there are at work, I guess.” He paused. “I'll have 'em check the mine area. Do you want 'em wandering around up on the hill, looking for an entrance?”
I did not. No point giving the game away before we were ready.
“You do know that it runs for about three miles or better?” asked Lamar. “Inside the hill, mostly north and south, but it does go back in under the bluffs for a good five hundred feet, too?”
“Okay…. ”
“I just asked because, if you want to do a search or something, it could take a real long time. The chambers are big enough to be easy to search, you know, but they cover a lot of territory.”
“I sure hope not,” I said. “I hate caves.”
He chuckled. “The troops been getting really curious why I'm telling 'em to do all this stuff. I ain't told where you are, and they're thinkin' that I'm on the case.”
“Hey, we brought in the best.”
“Uh, Carl, while I got you on the phone … did you have some sort of confrontation with Borman about that warning shot business?”
“Not really,” I said. “Why?”
“Well, he says you jumped in his shit in front of witnesses. Embarrassed him, or something. Gave him a lecture, I believe he said. Here in the office. You know anything about that?”
“Sure. He flagged me down on my way through Dispatch, and wanted to know why I told on him. Just like a little kid.”
“Yeah. Well, Carl, he's filed a grievance with the union. Alleges