“Hola.” The speaker’s voice was of medium timbre, young, somewhat hesitant.
Mattie replied in Spanish. “Hi, my name is Mattie Cobb. Did Mr. Quintana tell you that I’m William Cobb’s sister?”
“Yes.”
“Great. It’s Carlos, right?”
“Carlos Martinez.”
“Thank you for talking to me.” She repeated what she’d told his boss about her and William’s history. “I was hoping I could get to know him a little better by talking to you. You were friends?”
“We worked together.”
“Oh.” She’d hoped for more than that. Disappointed, she soldiered on. “Did you have conversations with each other, talk about what was going on in his life, his family?”
“He said he had a sister who was a cop.”
Ah, maybe that’s why he’s being so distant, she thought. She decided to stick to the truth. There was no reason to lie to this man, and perhaps being open would draw him out. “That’s me. I’m trying to learn more about Willie’s life to try to figure out what he was doing his last days.”
“Okay.”
Mattie paused, but he didn’t volunteer more. “I talked to Tamara, Willie’s girlfriend. Do you know her?”
“No.”
“She said that last week, before he disappeared, Willie might have connected with someone from his past, an old friend of the family. Do you know anything about that?”
After several seconds, Carlos answered. “Maybe.”
“What do you mean by maybe?”
“Will said that he got a call from someone he never knew existed before. It was making him feel crazy.”
“Did he say why?”
“He said he should have known about this guy.”
Mattie wondered what that could mean. Someone Willie didn’t know existed, but he should have. Could this be the old friend of the family he’d mentioned? “He said guy? It was a man, not a woman?”
“Si. The man stopped by here, and Will went off with him in his car during his lunch break.”
Adrenaline kicked in, giving her a rush. “What day was that?”
“Uh … I think last Tuesday.”
“Did you see the man?”
“No, but I saw the car.”
“What kind of car was it?”
“A silver Chevrolet Tahoe, recent year.”
A mechanic would know. Mattie jotted it down in her notepad. “Did you notice the plates?”
“California. That’s all.”
“Did Will say anything when he got back? What did he look like? Mad, scared, shaken?”
“Oh, he was upset. Nervous. Said he hoped he could get rid of the guy. He was asking questions Will didn’t know how to answer.”
None of this sounded good. “Is there anything else you can tell me about this man? Something I could use to find him?”
“No. That’s all I know.”
Mattie wished she could be face-to-face with her informant. She couldn’t tell if he was being truthful or withholding more information because he was afraid to get involved. “Carlos, I need to ask you something else about my brother, something important that could help us find his killer. Could he have gotten involved with drugs lately?”
“Your brother didn’t even drink beer with us. He was proud of his new boy, Elliott. Will wanted to be the kind of man Elliot could look up to. He said if he was ever tempted to start using again, he wanted us to kick his butt.”
Mattie closed her eyes and released a breath. That sounded like Willie. “Could he have started selling drugs or gotten involved with drug running?”
“He would have nothing to do with it. That’s not the life he wanted.”
“You’ve been a great help, Carlos. Thank you for taking the time to talk with me. Could I leave my number for you to call if you think of anything else? Or if this man in the Tahoe happens to come back.”
He agreed, and Mattie gave him her cell phone number. After thanking him again, she disconnected the call and leaned back in her chair. She felt depleted and filled with emotion—sadness for Willie mixed with exhilaration that she might have unearthed information that could help with his case. After a few seconds she roused herself and hurried to go tell Stella what she’d learned.
TWENTY-TWO
It was midafternoon, and while they waited for Tucker York to show up, Mattie and Stella retreated to the war room. Stella had just received the report from ballistics, and was scanning it for new information.
“Okay, here are the results on the casing that Robo found. The slug retrieved from the ram’s carcass is a match to the casing. But Ed Lovejoy’s rifle didn’t fire it.” Stella glanced up from the report to look at Mattie. “The striations on the casing that Robo found do not match those on a bullet the lab tech fired from Lovejoy’s gun, indicating that this particular rifle didn’t shoot the ram.”
“I have to admit that I’m glad Ed is in the clear. I would’ve hated for our wildlife manager to be responsible for such a thing. Not to mention that it could implicate his involvement with Willie’s death.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. But here’s the big score.” Stella paused as if for effect. “The Desert Eagle .357 Magnum is ninety-nine percent likely to be the gun that killed John Doe Number One, the man who had the slug inside his skull. Thanks to you and Robo, we have a murder weapon for that case. And get this. The entry wound on the skull of John Doe Number Two is the same size and shape. It’s quite possible that the gun killed both of the adults.”
Mattie should have felt elated, but didn’t. “Blunt force trauma killed the child, John Doe Number Three. Any speculation about what instrument might have caused it?”
“Some sort of blunt object. Could be consistent with the butt of that Desert Eagle.”
Mattie shuddered as she pictured two men and a child kneeling before their killer. She hoped the child had gone first and been spared the horror of watching the others die before him.
The door opened and Sheriff McCoy entered. Stella handed him the ballistics report while Mattie briefed him on her interview with Carlos Martinez. Then he announced his reason for coming to join them. “Tucker York is in the lobby, waiting for us to talk to him. I want all three of us to handle it. Deputy Cobb, you take the seat on the same side of the table as him, and we’ll keep the tone friendly.”
They went to the lobby to greet York, and after shaking the wildlife supervisor’s hand, Mattie followed the others into the interrogation room. As they entered, McCoy was saying, “Sorry for the starkness of this room, but this is the only available space to talk privately. Could I get you something to drink? Coffee, a soft drink?”
“No thanks, I’ve had plenty of coffee today.” York picked a chair across the table from McCoy and sat. Mattie followed suit, angling her chair toward his so that she could observe him comfortably.
“Thank you for coming in to talk with us,” McCoy said. “We have somewhat of a shared investigation involving this ram killing.”
“I’m not quite sure why your department has become so involved,” York said. “And I’m definitely concerned that you have the local wildlife manager under suspicion. He’s the last person you should be looking at.”
“You can be assured that we agree,” McCoy said, “but we’re talking to everyone who was up at the crime scene on Sunday. Ed just happened to be carrying a rifle that day loaded with the same ammo as the slug that killed the ram. I can share with you that, right before we entered this room, I received a report that eliminated Ed’s gun. We’ll return it to him as soon as possible.”