Slow Kill - Michael Mcgarrity [75]
“No, sir,” Ramona said tersely.
“Good. Don’t let this situation shake your focus, Sergeant. Griffin still may do time. But if not, he’s permanently out of business and DEA has gained a major informant. You’ve got Dean for murder one. Make the same thing happen with Claudia Spalding.”
Ramona smiled thinly and rose. “Yes, sir.”
Kerney smiled. “Put your frustration aside, Sergeant. Most of the time you handle it well.”
Ramona got the sugarcoated warning. “I’m sorry if I seemed abrupt, Chief.”
“No harm done,” Kerney replied.
Ramona left and Kerney thumbed through a plan Larry Otero had prepared for rearranging offices and renovating space in the building now that the department’s dispatch and 911 unit had moved to the new regional communication center housed at the county law enforcement center.
It was a good plan, but it didn’t capture Kerney’s interest. He wanted Sara to call with word that she’d cleared the decks and he could get on with the exhumation.
He occupied himself by working on the details of the George Spalding matter that he could control. He lined up a forensic anthropologist, arranged for a private lab to do the DNA testing, confirmed that Alice Spalding’s saliva sample had been sent by overnight express, and got the judge’s signed exhumation order faxed to Sara, the VA, and the U.S. Attorney.
When he finished, he thought about calling Sara and dismissed the idea. He’d already asked her for a big favor. The least he could do was wait patiently to hear back. Holding that thought in mind, Kerney forced his attention on a fresh stack of documents Helen Muiz had deposited on his desk.
Dressed in stonewashed blue jeans, lightweight walking shoes, and a peach-colored pullover top, Ellie Lowrey left her house, greeted by a fair evening with calm, blue skies showing the first hint of sunset. The air, still moist from a brief shower that earlier in the day had brushed the coastal mountains, felt cool against her face.
She drove with her car windows down, trying hard to put the Spalding murder investigation behind her. Lieutenant Macy’s lecture should have been warning enough. But over a light dinner, a summer salad with orange slices, greens, and a vinaigrette dressing, Ellie couldn’t convince herself to leave things well enough alone. She’d promised Ramona Pino she’d take a closer look at Claudia Spalding’s extramarital love life, and she felt honor-bound to follow through.
According to her phone message, Ramona had scored a possible lead on one of Claudia’s former lovers, a man named Coe Evans. Supposedly, Evans had been approached by Claudia to join in a murder plot that predated Kim Dean. For now, it was nothing more than hearsay. But Ramona had made some progress, which was more than Ellie could claim.
She took a back road out of Templeton past soft, hilly pastureland dotted with cattle resting under oak trees, yearlings and colts trotting along enclosed white fences bordering the lane, and tidy rows of grapevines winding up gentle inclines.
She drove quickly through Atascadero, a city gutted by the El Camino Real and Highway 101, a place with no true heart left, no real sense of community. Outside of town, she stayed on country roads, driving aimlessly, trying without much success to shake thoughts of Claudia Spalding from her mind.
Spalding was an attractive, sophisticated, calculating, and smart woman, with a smugness and a cold edge to her. She’d swatted away Ellie’s attempts to crack her defenses. What would it take to break her down?
Ellie sat in her parked car looking down at the training track of the Double J Ranch. Across the way, perched on a small rise, was the house where Ken Wheeler, the ranch manager, lived.
She wondered if Wheeler felt lucky to live on a picture-perfect ranch, working with beautiful, pampered animals, spending every day inside an enchanted bubble sheltered from ugliness, crime, depravity, and violence.
Cops were supposed to be cavalier about the grotesque and monstrous things people