Slow Kill - Michael Mcgarrity [18]
“Who’s the young woman?” he asked.
Alice Spalding glared at him. “You know very well that’s Debbie Calderwood.”
“Yes, of course it is,” Kerney said.
“Find her and you’ll find George,” Alice said.
“She’s also missing?”
“You know she is,” Alice replied hotly.
“Debbie left Albuquerque soon after George died,” Parker explained. “Alice believes she was pregnant with George’s baby at the time.”
“I want to see my grandbaby,” Alice said. She made a cuddling motion with her arms.
Kerney had heard and seen enough. He excused himself and let Parker escort him downstairs.
“See what I mean?” Parker said as she led him toward the front door.
“Who is Captain Chase?” Kerney asked.
“He’s the commander of the Santa Barbara Police Department Criminal Investigation Unit. Alice usually has me call him once a week to report another lead about George. He’s handled the case—if you want to call it that—for years.”
“Can he tell me anything about Mr. Spalding?”
“I’m sure he can,” Parker answered. “As well as probably more than you’ll ever want to know about Alice’s search for George.”
“How did Spalding handle Alice’s obsession?”
“Indulgently, for years, until it got the best of him.”
“What about Debbie? Is she really missing?”
Parker had her hand on the front doorknob. “She probably just moved away. The police aren’t looking for her. They never have. Years ago, before my time, Alice talked Clifford into hiring a private detective to look for Debbie, but it didn’t get anywhere.”
“Does the private detective live here in Santa Barbara?”
“Yes, but he’s retired now, and I don’t know his name. Alice will eventually ask me about Clifford. What can I tell her?”
“What I said earlier, that he probably died from natural causes in his sleep.”
“What a peaceful way to go.”
“You’ll be able to get a report from the San Luis Obispo Sheriff’s Department within a few days.”
“Could you bring it to me?” Parker asked, smiling winningly.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
Parker gave him directions to the second Mrs. Spalding’s Montecito estate, and Kerney decided to find a room for the night. After his visit with Alice Spalding, he wondered if staying over in California to chase down information would turn out to be nothing but a waste of time.
He pulled into a motel parking lot on State Street, a few blocks beyond an area of hotels, high-end department stores, movie houses, restaurants, and retail shops that formed the tourist center of the city. His cell phone rang as he killed the engine.
“Hey there, Kerney,” Andy Baca said.
“How were the polar bears at the zoo?” he asked.
“Playful,” Andy said. “The grandkids loved them. We’re on our way home to Santa Fe, and they’re asleep in the back of the car.”
“Wasn’t I supposed to call you later tonight?” Kerney asked.
“Yeah, but I’ve got news,” Andy said. “I told my district commander to do whatever it took to find Mrs. Spalding pronto. So he contacted the state game and fish officer for the Pecos District and asked him to go looking for her and her trail-riding buddies up in the mountains.
“The game and fish officer found her all right, along with only one, I repeat, one, trail-riding pal: a white, forty-year-old male named Kim Dean. It was just the two of them. Mrs. Spalding gave the officer a line of bull about the rest of the group having gone on ahead to Elk Mountain. But from what the officer saw, he didn’t buy it.”
“What did he see that led him to that conclusion?”
“A cozy tent for two and no sign of any other riders entering the trailhead during the last three days.”
“Interesting,” Kerney said. “Where’s Mrs. Spalding now?”
“Still in the mountains,” Andy replied. “The officer just called in his report. He said she had a good three-hour ride before she would get back to where their horse trailer is parked.”
“Did he say how Spalding reacted to the news of her husband’s death?” Kerney asked.
“Yeah, tears, shock, and surprise.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Larry Otero has Ramona Pino checking out this Dean guy.”
“Good. Has the San Luis Obispo Sheriff