Faye Kellerman - The Burnt House

Decker said, “I would love to charge him in conjunction with your daughter’s disappearance, Farley, but I don’t have any evidence-”

“For Christ sakes, Decker, he already admitted to killing a lady. Ain’t that enough evidence?”

Raymond Holmes hadn’t admitted to killing anyone. He was still blaming Beth’s death on his missing brother, Manny. Holmes was keeping his story as consistent as a metronome. The subtle difference between being booked on murder and tampering with evidence was lost on the old man.

“Farley, I am committed to your daughter’s case. I will not rest until I have answers. And if Holmes is the answer, he’ll be charged. Right now we’ve got a classic catch-22. I have to have evidence to get a warrant to get evidence.”

“Well, then change the goddamn system!”

“I wish I could-”

“So this monster is gonna walk?”

“You mean Holmes?”

“Yes, I mean Holmes. Who the hell else would I be talking about? This bastard murdered my daughter and you’re sitting on your hands!”

Just a few days ago, Lodestone had been insistent that Ivan had murdered Roseanne. Of course Holmes’s arrest had changed all that. Although Farley still detested Ivan, he was now aiming his considerable wrath at the contractor. Ivan Dresden was also venting about Holmes to Decker. At last the two men had something in common. It seemed that everyone loved Ray Holmes as Roseanne’s killer.

Decker said, “Farley, no one has been ruled out.”

“And no one has been arrested, either.”

“That’s correct. We’re being very careful because we don’t want any of our hard work thrown out because of procedural errors.” Decker could hear grousing over the phone. “Look, Farley. The case that we’re working on now-the one that involves Raymond Holmes-is over thirty years old. We’re tenacious buggers. We don’t give up just because things are hard.”

Silence.

Decker said, “I’m making every effort I can to find out what happened to Roseanne. And I have no reason to think that we won’t solve the case.”

More silence.

“Are you there, Farley?”

“Yeah, I’m still here.”

Decker groaned inwardly. “I’m doing the best I can. I understand that my best isn’t always enough. I’m sorry about that. But I promise you, I’ll keep at it.”

Maybe we’ll get lucky, he thought to himself.

Lodestone finally spoke. “The parents of the dead girl that you found. Are they still alive?”

“Yes, they’re still alive.”

“How old are they?”

“In their seventies.”

“Nice people?”

“Lovely.”

“And they’ve been in the dark about their daughter for over thirty years?”

“Yes.”

“My, my, my. Now, that is humbling.” The old man’s voice had turned soft. “You gonna talk to them again? The parents?”

“Yes. I’m sure I’ll be talking to them quite a bit in the days to come.”

Lodestone was uncharacteristically quiet for a moment. When he finally found his voice, it cracked. “When you see ’em, send ’em my best.”

“I’ll do that, Farley.” Decker felt his throat swell. “I know they’ll appreciate your good wishes.”

The line disconnected. Decker rubbed his moist eyes and took a moment to simply breathe. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. The conversation had left his voice dry and he slugged down a bottle of water. Then he rolled up his shirtsleeves and went to work.

T HE OLD MAN’S memory was suddenly steeped in senility. Decker supposed that it was one thing to theoretically talk about screwing up one’s only living son. It was quite another thing for Martin Hernandez to face his own flesh and blood in a courtroom and condemn him to death.

“I didn’t say that Ray did anything,” Hernandez emphasized. “I just told you that Ray and Beth were arguing.”

“Actually, I have your exact words in front of me,” Decker countered. They were once again sitting in steel chairs, holed up in the luxurious interview room at Santa Fe Correctional. “You signed your statement, Martin. You specifically said that Ray told you that he pushed Beth, although you do say that it was an accident and that Ray said he didn’t mean for her to die.”

“I’m almost eighty, for Christ sakes! Maybe Ray told me that Manny pushed her.”

“Where is Manny?”

“How the hell should I know that?”

“I think you’d be curious about your own son.”

“Being curious is not a good thing in a penitentiary. You learn real quick how to mind your own business.”

Decker had no comeback to that. “I’m trying to help you get out of here early. I’m trying to help you with your dream of raising your dogs in all that beautiful, empty land in southern New Mexico. I’ve seen you work your animal magic and you have a lot to offer once you get out. There are lots of rescued dogs out there that can use rehabilitation.” Decker snapped his fingers. “Hey, maybe you can even get yourself a TV show like that Dog Whisperer guy.”

Hernandez rolled his eyes. “Lieutenant, I’m old, I’m forgetful, but I’m not stupid. Don’t be playing me for a fool.”

Decker nodded. “Scratch the TV show. But the rest is reality and that’s totally up to you. If you start forgetting things that you said, Martin, I can still use your statement for the grand jury. That’ll mean that you’re back to square one and you’ll serve out your sentence. All this talk will be for nothing. But that’s up to you.”

“I ain’t gonna lie for you.”

“God forbid,” Decker said. “Martin, all I want is for you to tell the truth. Tell a grand jury what Ray told you. That’s it. The rest is up to a court of law.”

“He never ever tol’ me he killed her, Lieutenant. I want to make that clear.”

Decker said, “But he did tell you he pushed her…”

“He pushed her, Manny pushed her. All he kept saying is that he didn’t mean for it to happen.”

“In your signed statement, you state that Belize told you that he pushed her.”

“Maybe I made a mistake. He tol’ me someone pushed her. Maybe him, maybe Manny.”

“Maybe Manny…” Decker sat back in the chair. “Do you remember the last time you saw Manny?”

“When he was a kid and the missus used to bring them in. After he married Beth, he didn’t come see me no more.”

“He moved to California.”

“He coulda wrote.”

“And Belize never told you what happened to Manny?”

The old man shook his head no.

“Did you ever wonder if Belize murdered your son?”

“No, sir.” Hernandez shook his head. “I never did wonder that. I figure if Manny never visited me before the Beth incident, why would he visit me after? Like I tol’ you, being too curious ain’t a good thing.”

“What would you say if I gave you proof that Belize murdered Manny?”

“Maybe I’d care, and then maybe I wouldn’t. Manny was always a mama’s boy. Belize was mine, for better or worse. I mighta been rough on him, but that was because he could take it.” Hernandez leaned across the table. “The deal was that I’d say what Belize told me. The deal was not that I’d lie just because you want me to. And where I come from, a deal is a deal.”

“No one is asking you to lie.”

“A deal is a deal.”

“Ray pushed Beth. You have that in your statement to me.”

“Well, maybe Ray pushed her and maybe it was Manny. You can read your statement and I can say I don’t remember. I’m an old man. Ray made his confession to me a long time ago and I don’t remember who did what. I’ll tell your grand jury that Ray was there and you can ask me all the questions you want. But I won’t lie for you.” Hernandez folded his thick arms across his barrel chest. “Now, are you gonna keep your end of the bargain?”