The Big Gamble - Michael Mcgarrity [87]
“That sucked,” she said.
“I think it went well,” Vialpando said.
“I’m talking about how I feel. He had his hand halfway up my crotch. I need a shower.”
Jeff stayed silent. He’d learned from hard experience working with the female vice cops in his department that nothing he could say would wash Ramona’s feeling of disgust away.
“I wish the bastard had incriminated himself,” Ramona said.
“You did good,” Jeff replied.
“Big deal. He shoots Bedlow’s students on location at Norvell’s ranch.”
“It’s another link in the chain,” Jeff said.
“I would have liked to get a hell of a lot more.”
“Are these your pictures?” Vialpando asked, reaching for the envelope on the dashboard.
“Don’t touch.”
He pulled his hand away. “I’d like to have one to show the guys who I’m dating.”
Ramona’s fierceness softened. “Oh, are we dating?”
“We will be, if you let me take you to dinner.”
“Don’t you have a date with Sally Greer?”
“Yeah, in three hours. Until then, I’m all yours.”
“Dinner, huh?”
“Yep,” Jeff said, pulling at the lapel of his best suit. “At a fancy restaurant. I already made the reservation.”
“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?” Ramona said, breaking into a smile.
“Hopeful, optimistic.”
“One question,” Ramona said. “Are there any current girlfriends I need to know about?”
“I’m between relationships,” Jeff replied.
“What does that mean?”
“It means I haven’t been on a date in six months.”
“That’s worse than not having a girlfriend.”
Vialpando laughed. “You’re right. May I buy you dinner, Detective?”
“As long as you don’t put your hand on my thigh.”
“Agreed,” Jeff said. “Now, about those pictures.”
Ramona snatched the envelope off the dashboard. “In your dreams. You’ve got a long way to go before you’ll get to see them, if ever.”
“But there’s a chance?”
“Maybe,” Ramona replied.
Vialpando put his hand on the door latch. “Follow me. After dinner you can hang out and eavesdrop on my date with Greer, if you want to.”
“I’d like that. Besides, somebody needs to keep an eye on you.”
Vialpando laughed and went back to his car. Ramona dialed Chief Kerney’s home number. He answered in a gruff voice, and she filled him in as Jeff swung ahead of the unit.
“I don’t know if it means anything substantial,” Ramona said.
“It’s helpful,” Kerney said tersely. “Thanks for the call, Detective.”
Feeling a bit deflated by Kerney’s tone, Ramona disconnected and closed the distance to Jeff’s car, wondering what was eating at the chief.
Luis Rojas talked to the El Paso vice cop on the phone and watched Tyler Norvell drum his fingers on the black marble top of the kitchen island.
He disconnected and swung his bar stool to face Norvell straight on. “That Indian cop is still nosing around, but he won’t get anywhere.” He gave Norvell the scoop on Detective Brewer’s phone call.
“And you were just telling me everything is going to be all right,” Norvell said. “This doesn’t cut it, Luis.”
“What’s the problem?” Rojas responded. “A cop asks Cassie a couple of questions about Anna Marie and goes away. An Indian cop comes around nosing into my whereabouts the night of the murder in Ruidoso, gets his answers, and goes away.”
“But this Indian cop hasn’t gone away,” Norvell said. “He’s still investigating. He’s got the names of two of our girls.”
“He was told nothing that can come back at us. I’ll have Shea take the girls to Juárez tonight. They can work there until things quiet down.”
“And that solves everything?” Norvell snapped.
“If I asked the cop pretty please to stop, would that make you feel better?” Rojas moved off the stool, poured two mugs of freshly ground coffee, and brought them to the kitchen island.
“Cut the sarcasm,” Norvell said, spooning sugar into his mug.
“In time, this will become just another unsolved cold case that’s forgotten.”
“Anna Marie’s death hasn’t been forgotten,” Norvell said.
“Because they found her remains,” Rojas said, settling back on his stool. “They had to reopen the case.”
“Was it necessary to have Ulibarri killed?” Norvell