Exit Wounds - J. A. Jance [111]
“That’s right.”
“I’d as soon shoot the bastard and put him out of his misery.”
“I’d rather find a way to lock him up for good,” Joanna replied. “And with any kind of luck, we will. Did Ernie come up with any information on The Brethren from Sheriff Drake?”
“Not so far,” Frank said. “I’ll let you know if and when he does.”
Finally she handed over copies of Irma Mahilich’s pencil drawings. “What are these?” Frank asked as he stared down at the rectangles with their spidery handwritten labels.
“They’re road maps of the Phelps Dodge General Office in Bisbee circa 1975,” Joanna told him. “Compliments of Irma Mahilich. She verified that the Deportation weapons were handed out to whatever employees were interested in taking them home. I’ve got shorthand information on all of the people listed, except for the ones on this last page—the one that’s marked page four. I’ll transcribe my notes, so whoever goes looking for these folks to interview them will have at least that much information at their disposal.”
“I recognize some of the names,” Frank said, examining the sheet. “Some of them still live around here. Others”—he shrugged—“I’ve never heard of.”
Joanna nodded. “That’s why I think we should hand this job off to Ernie. As far as Bisbee’s concerned, he’s an old-timer, and these people will talk to him. As soon as I finish with the notes, I’ll get them to him. And later on today, if I can, I’ll talk to Irma again and find out about the people on page four. How are you doing on the phone records?” she added. “I still want to know when Eddie Mossman first heard about Carol’s death.”
“It’s not easy getting phone records from Mexico,” Frank replied. “But we know Mossman said his daughter Stella is the one who told him. So I’ve fallen back on my old pal at the phone company, and I’m requesting information on Stella Adams’s phones as well.”
Once Frank left her office, Joanna quickly transcribed her notes, keying them into her computer. When she had printed copies in hand, she asked Kristin to deliver a set to Ernie Carpenter. Then she began wading her way through the paperwork jungle. She was deep into it when Jaime Carbajal called from California.
“We’ve hit pay dirt here,” he said.
“How so?” Joanna asked. “Tell me.”
“I got a look at the download of one of Carmen Ortega’s film segments. It’s dynamite. It shows a wedding ceremony between a horny old coot named Harold Lassiter and a twelve-year-old girl.”
Joanna felt a clutch in her gut. “Cecilia Mossman?” she asked.
“You’ve got it,” Jaime returned. “Mossman married his daughter off to a guy who has to be sixty if he’s a day. Lassiter’s other four wives were all there at the ceremony with him, waiting to welcome poor little Cecilia into the family while Eddie Mossman himself was proud to give the so-called bride away. It was enough to make me want to puke. Cecilia’s there swimming in a wedding dress that must be five sizes too big for her. The poor kid looks like she’s scared to death.”
“Pam Davis and Carmen Ortega filmed the whole wedding?” Joanna demanded. “How the hell did they pull that one off?”
“I don’t know how they did it, but they did. It’s pretty damning stuff. If nothing else, we should be able to nail Mossman on transporting a minor across state lines for immoral purpose. It may be an international border, but it’s still, by God, a state line. Is Deputy Howell still keeping an eye on Mossman?”
“As far as I know. I haven’t pulled her off him, and I don’t think Frank has, either.”
“Well, good, let’s keep him under observation long enough to arrest him.”
“I still can’t believe they got it on film,” Joanna murmured.
“They must have had a contact inside the Lassiter family compound. They used a hidden, stationary camera,” Jaime told her. “It’s not great-quality film, but believe me, it’s plenty good enough.”
“And if someone found out about the filming later on, after the wedding, that would explain Eddie Mossman’s death threat, because taking the film public would blow the cover off The