Jonathan Kellerman - Capital Crimes

Jane’s eyes skittered between Amanda and Barnes, then trailed back to the fridge. Amanda followed her gaze. Nothing to see on the old Sub-Zero. No cutesy, kitschy magnets, no personal touches. The kitchen was as sterile as an operating room.

Jane said, “Since I filed for my divorce.” Her shoulders lowered another inch. “Parker went crazy, started doping more heavily, became an absolute psychotic shit ! I called Davida for support because…I don’t know why…she’d always been there when I was down…before all those men, and she did it again, became my main source of support. Because Mother had zero tolerance for my complaints against Parker, sometimes I think she preferred Parker to me- never arguing with her, dressing right. Then he goes and turns into such a shit ! But it’s my fault, spoiled Janey whining about another man gone bad. Parker played it. Horrible to me but courtly to her. Mother is not only a gossip, she is also the most superficial person I know. Makes Minette look like Gandhi- if Davida hadn’t been there for me, I would have had a total breakdown!”

She stopped talking abruptly, gasped for breath. Cried and didn’t bother to wipe her face.

Amanda got a napkin and did it.

Jane didn’t seem to notice the kindness.

Amanda said, “Were you two planning a future together?”

“We weren’t planning anything! Nothing was planned, it just happened! Even after we continued to see each other I told Davida I wasn’t sure. Davida certainly didn’t push me. She was a busy woman. She had things other than sex on her mind.”

“You know about the gonorrhea. I assume you’ve been tested.”

Jane looked down at her feet. “I am currently on medication. Apparently, I was asymptomatic.”

“Do you know who gave it to you?”

She laughed bitterly. “That could be a bit of a list…including my ex. Among his many other transgressions, the man got around. Of course, Mother doesn’t know anything about that. She thinks the divorce was another one of my quote unquote impulsive follies!”

Barnes said, “Janey, did Parker know that you and Davida were intimate?”

“I don’t see how he could’ve. I haven’t spoken to the asshole in over seven months.”

Amanda said, “How do you think he’d react if he found out that you not only left him, but you took up with a woman?”

“How would he find out?”

“Lucille knew,” Barnes said. “Alice Kurtag also suspected there was something between you two. Even Minette wondered about the two of you being more than friends.”

“Word gets around, Jane,” Amanda said. “So please answer the question. How would Parker react if he thought that you left him for Davida?”

Jane licked her lips. “When he’s threatened, Parker can be an extremely violent man. Over the past seven months, I’ve heard his drug use has gotten out of hand.”

“What does he take?”

“Weed, coke, pills.” Bitter smile. “An eclectic man.”

“Does he know how to shoot a shotgun?” Barnes asked.

Jane blanched. “Parker loved to hunt. Loved guns- I never let him keep any of them in the house. He was too unpredictable.”

“Where’d he keep them?”

“In storage. I couldn’t tell you where.”

Amanda said, “Where can we find Parker?”

Jane licked her lips again. “We owned a cabin near the river, about an hour from here. As part of the divorce settlement, I agreed to let him buy me out at a bargain price. Even with that, he hasn’t paid me. Lord only knows where he’ll get the money. Among Parker’s other wonderful traits is a congenital inability to keep a job.”

“The deed’s still in your name?”

“It is until he comes up with the cash.”

“So the cabin is yours but he lives there?”

“He might,” said Jane. “For all I know he’s in Timbuktu. I always hated the place. Dirty, lousy plumbing- roughing it was his idea.” Her eyes softened. “When Davida and I were on the river, roughing it seemed fine- ”

Amanda broke in: “Do we have your permission to enter the property, including the interior of the cabin?”

“Sure, why not- ” She gasped. “You really think he- oh, God, oh, God.” Rising to her feet, hands fisted. “Go. If it was him, go and kill him. I’ll draw you a map. ”

Barnes floored his Honda. The car balked, tried to tackle the grade, kicked back, finally slipped into gear and chugged along.

Blackness all around. Amanda rechecked her gun and wondered if the backup they’d called would get there. Rural sheriff, claiming to be understaffed. He hadn’t sounded too impressed to begin with and “ Berkeley ” had caused him to grow silent.

That’s unincorporated land, not really our jurisdiction.

Whose is it?

Good question. I’ll see what I can do.

The tiny car continued to labor up the mountain road. Why did a big man like Will drive such dinky wheels?

Up here in the boonies, small things like insufficient acceleration mattered. Jane’s scrawled map was helpful to a point, then everything started to look the same and landmarks vanished in the darkness. The GPS Amanda had attached to her handheld computer had been rendered useless ten miles back, reception blocked by massive oaks and giant redwoods.

“What’s wrong?” said Will.

“With what?”

“You’re fidgeting. Like you do when you have serious doubts.”

“If we really suspect this joker of blowing off Davida’s head, we could be making a big mistake by going in alone.”

“Davida was sleeping. We’re wide awake.”

“Mr. Macho.”

“Hey,” he said, “it’s a social call. We’ll ring the guy’s doorbell and act nice and polite.”

“It’s almost ten PM and we didn’t clear it with Torres.”

“We tried. Is it our fault he’s at a fund-raiser?” Shaking his head. “Community gardens, there’s a law-enforcement issue for you.”

Amanda went silent.

Five miles later, Barnes said, “You know, maybe it’s a good idea for you to wait in the car, especially if Parker doesn’t cotton to women.”

“I should just sit by and watch as Parker plugs you in the gut?”

“If you hear rat-a-tat put the pedal to the metal and get the hell out of here. You’ve got someone to go home to.”

“Not funny, Will.”

Barnes smiled. Wondering if he’d really been aiming for humor.

He slowed to five per, had Amanda shine a flashlight on Jane’s map, drove another ten miles and forked left. “Nothing is going to happen to me or to you. We’re just paying the guy a visit, that’s all.”

Amanda shook her head. “Just make sure your gun is drawn.”

They came to a dirt lane marked by a small wooden sign, nearly overtaken by vines and suckers.

RISING GLEN NO TRESPASSING.

A chain-link gate sagged on its hinges. Barnes got out. No lock, the clasp wasn’t even set in place. Swinging the gate inward, he got back in the car and coasted down on a rutted dirt lane.

Amanda said, “It’s so dark I can barely see my hands.”

Barnes stopped, had another look at the map, clicked off the flashlight. “When we come to a pond, it’s fifty yards to the right.”

Moments later, Amanda spotted a pinpoint of light.

A sliver of moon breaking on water. She pointed. “Over there.”

Off in the distance, another dot of illumination. Amber, like the lit end of a cigarette.

They watched for a while. The dot never moved.

Barnes said, “Probably a porch light.” He aimed the Honda at it, driving carefully along the curving surfaces of the pond bank.

A small structure came into view. More of a lean-to than a cabin, fashioned of rough planks and topped with tar paper. Low-wattage porchlight, no illumination through any of the windows.