Faye Kellerman - The Burnt House

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At 8:15 in the morning, a small commuter plane carrying forty-seven passengers crashes into an apartment building in Granada Hills, California. Shock waves ripple through Los Angeles, as L.A.P.D. Lieutenant Peter Decker works overtime to calm rampant fears of a 9/11-type terror attack. But a grisly mystery lives inside the plane's charred and twisted wreckage: the unidentified bodies of four extra travelers. And there is no sign of an airline employee who was supposedly on the catastrophic flight.
Decker and his wife, Rina, have personal reasons for being profoundly shaken by the tragedy, since the "accident" occurred frighteningly close to their daughter Hannah's school. Luckily, their child and her schoolmates escaped unscathed. But the fate of the unaccounted-for flight attendant-twenty-eight-year-old Roseanne Dresden-remains a question mark more than a month after the horrific event, when the young woman's irate stepfather calls, insisting that she was never onboard the doomed plane. Instead, he claims, she was most likely murdered by her abusive, unfaithful husband. But why, then, was Roseanne's name included on the passenger list?
Under intense pressure from the department to come up with answers, Decker launches an investigation that carries him down a path of tragic history, dangerous secrets, and deadly lies-and leads him to the corpse of a three-decades-missing murder victim. And as the jagged pieces slowly fall into place, a frightening picture begins to form: a mind-searing portrait of unimaginable evil that will challenge Decker's and Rina's own beliefs about guilt and innocence and justice.

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Decker glanced at his watch. It was already past “the first thing in the morning.” He called Marge on his cell. “Yo.”

“It’s been a while,” Marge said. “You must have had a productive evening.”

“I finished up about ten minutes ago.”

“Good stuff?”

“Yes, but it’s complicated. I’ll probably be back in L.A. around two. Did you pull the warrant?”

“We pulled the warrant, we have the car. Things are looking up.”

“Great. We’ll talk about it later. Cell lines aren’t protected, and for all I know, we’re being secretly taped by the enemy.”

“Who’s the enemy?”

“That remains to be seen.”

AS SOON AS the plane took off, Decker fell asleep. He didn’t stir until he felt a slight shaking, courtesy of a flight attendant. He roused himself to a state of semistupor, and was barely conscious enough to drive home from Burbank. He was too tired to notice that he had accidentally driven to his house in the West Valley instead of the station house. Rina took one look at him.

“Go immediately to bed. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars.”

“Can’t.”

“How long have you been up?”

“Awhile.”

“You’re the living dead.”

“I’ve got to go back to work. I probably shouldn’t be driving. Can you take me back to the precinct?”

“You’re asking me to be an accomplice in this folly?”

“I’m finally getting somewhere with both cases. I can’t stop now.”

Rina sighed. “Did you eat?”

“Just tanked up on coffee and even that’s not working anymore. Maybe some protein will help.”

“Salami sandwich?”

“Way too strong.”

“Egg salad?”

“That would be terrific, but only if it’s no inconvenience.”

“Not at all. Go take a shower and I’ll make you some lunch. You’ll feel better after you’ve changed clothes and have eaten.”

A shower and food were exactly what he needed. He dragged himself into the bedroom. By the time he’d cleaned up, he felt slightly renewed. He knew he shouldn’t waste time by eating at home, but he needed a few moments with his wife to center his aching body. “So tell me what’s new?”

“Your daughter made Model UN.”

“Really. That’s great!”

“Hannah was very proud, although I’m not surprised. The kid could debate her way to the Supreme Court.”

“Ain’t that the truth? Have you spoken to Cindy and Koby?”

“They’re doing fine.”

“How’s the construction going?”

“Quote, unquote-Mike is a godsend. If you’re going to be conscious this weekend, I’ll have them over for Shabbos.”

“That would be wonderful. To prove my gratitude, I’ll make ribs.”

“Yum, but don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.” He finished off his sandwich. “This really hit the spot.” Rina knew him very well. She had made him a second one without even asking. Sheepishly, he picked it up. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.” She leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Food always tastes better when you’re hungry. I take it the case is going well?”

“Not perfect, but good enough.” He gave her the salient details, leaving out the gory parts.

“Do you have enough to get it past the grand jury?” Rina asked.

“Yes, I’m pretty sure of that.”

“And you believe that the wife wasn’t there when it happened?”

“I do.”

“So where does that leave you in the case against Raymond Holmes?”

“You mean what do we have against him?”

Rina nodded.

“We have a signed statement given by Holmes’s father. In it, Ray told his father that he pushed Beth, and that’s how she died. Unfortunately, the father is now backtracking, claiming his memory is fuzzy. He’s now saying that it could have been Manny who pushed Beth and being that the guy is close to eighty, maybe he was confused.”

“And what do you think?”

“First of all, Beth didn’t die by hitting the back of her head against a wall. She died because someone bashed in her head with a blunt object. According to Lindie, there was spatter everywhere.”

“Ugh!”

“Sorry.”

“That’s okay. I should be used to it by now. So who do you think hit Beth Devargas?”

“Not that my opinion matters in a court of law, but I know it was Raymond Holmes. Manny wasn’t described as being violent or having a hair-trigger temper. By the accounts of those who knew him, he was a pretty decent guy who smoked a lot of weed and ate a lot of food. I think after Ray killed Beth, Manny couldn’t bring himself to turn in his brother.”

“Or maybe he was frightened of his brother.”

“Could be, but I don’t think so. According to Lindie, after Beth was murdered, Manny took over. Lindie described Manny as being very calm, probably more shock than anything else. After it wore off and Manny realized that he had buried his murdered wife, I think the boy was overcome with guilt. He had lost everything-his father, his brother, his wife. He was despondent. He drank himself into a fatal bar fight: his own brand of suicide.”

“Poor man. Trapped by being born into the wrong family.”

“Still, people make bad choices,” Decker told her. “He should have known his brother was bad news.”

“At least Manny was related to Ray. They had a history together. What was Lindie Holmes’s excuse?”

“Just plain dumbness.”

“And you really don’t think she was involved in the murder?”

“Not in the murder, no, but she did help Ray or Belize clean up the mess after Beth was killed. She also helped bury her brother-in-law in the desert.”

“So you’ll charge her with what? Tampering with evidence?”

“Exactly.”

“Suspended sentence.”

“Two for two.”

“And what about Roseanne Dresden? Do you think Holmes had anything to do with her disappearance?”

“That’s an open question.” Decker told her about the disposed carpet mats that shone blue with blood protein after being sprayed with luminol. “I haven’t ruled out Holmes, especially considering who he is, but he’s down on the list. After his arrest, we got access to his credit cards. I turned up a receipt with his signature on it, putting Holmes in San Jose at ten-fifteen on the morning of the crash.”

“You found him an alibi.”

“I did. There is no way Holmes could have murdered Roseanne that morning, disposed of the body, and then hopped a plane back to San Jose and signed that receipt at ten-fifteen on that same morning.”

“Could Holmes have hired someone?”

“The next question, and it’s a very good question. So far we don’t have any evidence that proves or disproves that theory.”

“So that brings you back to Ivan,” Rina said. “All that blood on the car mats…and Ivan took in the car to be completely reupholstered. There’s a logical connection.”

“Logic doesn’t always enter into the picture, but we do what we can.” He looked at his wristwatch. “Ready?”

“Whenever you are.”

“That’s never.” He stood up. “But tuition is expensive and I’ve got to make a buck, though Lord knows there are easier ways.”

“But you love your job,” Rina said.

“Sometimes,” Decker admitted. “It’s rewarding when you solve some perplexing cases and put away some real bad people. But most of the time, the work is a lot of drudgery and just plain sad.”

MARGE WAS WAITING for him, a cup of coffee in her hand. “We’ve got news.”

She wasn’t smiling but she wasn’t frowning. He’d just have to wait for the verdict. Decker pulled out the key to his office. “It’s been that kind of week.” He opened the door. “Come in and tell me all about it.”

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