Gun Games - Faye Kellerman [138]
“I pray to God that Hammerling is apprehended there,” Poe said. “The Lone Star State has the death penalty and she’s not afraid to use it.”
Deputy D.A. Nurit Luke showed up at the station house in person and unannounced in a hot pink cotton blazer and black linen pants. Her red hair was neatly coiffed, but her makeup could use a refresh. She didn’t look happy. When Decker came up to her from behind and tapped her on the shoulder, she jumped.
“Sorry,” he said. “Are you looking for me?”
“No apology necessary. I’m discombobulated. And yes, I’m looking for you.”
“The meeting didn’t go well,” Decker stated.
“Can we talk somewhere private?”
“That bad?”
She gave him a forced smile. He escorted her into his office and closed the door. “What’s the bad news?”
“Dylan was a no-show.”
Decker leaned forward on his chair. “He was scheduled to be there?”
“He was scheduled to be there, he was supposed to be there,” Nurit said. “Book was serious about a plea bargain. Book showed, his secretary showed, and Dylan’s parents showed. After thirty minutes of waiting, the team went into phone-call mode. He isn’t answering his cell, and no one seems to know where he’s gone.”
“What about his car?”
“It’s still in the garage.” Nurit fiddled nervously with the straps of her bag.
“Okay,” Decker said. “When was the last time anyone saw him?”
“His mother claimed she saw him just a few hours before the meeting.”
“I’ll send out an APB right away. I’ll also have my people start calling up the airlines, the bus lines, train lines, rental cars, and taxi cab and limo services. He couldn’t have gotten very far if he left just a few hours before the meeting.”
Nurit continued to play with the straps on her purse.
“You don’t believe the mother, do you?”
“No.”
“Even though the family stands to lose five million dollars?”
“I don’t believe her at all.”
“You think Dylan is long gone.”
“Yes. I think he left as soon as Book wanted to deal—a sign that Dylan would have trouble with a jury trial. That his car is in the garage means it wasn’t an impulse flee—something that had been planned a week ago.”
“So Dylan could be anywhere.”
“Yes.”
“Good Lord . . .” First Hammerling, now Lashay. It’s enough to give vigilantism a good name. “Okay. We’ll start an investigation. The first thing to do is to try to retrace his steps.”
“God, I’m pissed.”
“I am, too.” He paused. “I’m going on vacation this Friday. Marge’ll handle this. She’s been in charge from the beginning anyway.”
“Actually, I called her before I called you. She isn’t picking up.”
“That’s right. She has a court date. She should be out in a couple of hours.” He picked up his phone. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to make a couple of calls.”
“You’re calling up the families?”
“Yes, I’m calling up the families. I have to let them know.”
“Man, I don’t envy you at all.”
Decker gave her a sick look and punched in the Nevada area code. He chose Donatti first because he knew the number by heart.
The visit to Olivia Garden’s office was a pop-in, and because the doctor wasn’t expecting the police, the detectives had to wait until she was between patients. Ten minutes later, the doctor’s secretary took them into her personal office. Ten minutes after that, the white-coated physician came inside and shut the door. She sat down behind her desk and wiped her face with her hands. She was all business.
“What can I do for you?”
Marge said, “It’s about your grandson, Dylan Lashay.”
“As if I didn’t know.” Her eyes became very sad. “I’ve been just sick about this. Just . . . sick!”
Oliver said, “Dr. Garden, I understand the love between grandchild and grandparent. It’s a deep-rooted relationship that’s based on nothing but adoration. I have grandchildren of my own, and I find it’s the sole reason to have children. But I must tell you this. If you’re hiding Dylan, you are hiding a fugitive. You are breaking the law. You’ve made a life for yourself.