When they reached the Suburban, Sheila Dolson yelled, “Mr. Baker! Please call me!” before slamming the passenger door shut. Vince told the patrol officer to make sure they left the grounds and stayed out. “And while you’re at it, find out what the hell happened to the lock on the gate.”
He walked over to the Crown Vic and turned on a spotlight, aiming it toward the slope. The sun hadn’t set yet, but the clouds were gradually starting to move in again. Without saying a word to each other, Vince and Reed grabbed a couple of flashlights and walked up to where the marker was placed. The detectives conferred briefly, then pulled Mark into the discussion, asking him about when we were notified by Sheila and so on. I was left standing next to Ben and Caleb.
“Are you okay?” I asked Ben. “Being around Anna can’t be easy.”
He shook his head but said, “I’ll get there. I’m not used to the idea yet, although I can’t say I didn’t see it coming,”
“Leaving you a note-that was just chickenshit,” Caleb said.
“She broke up with you with a note? Jesus, Ben…”
He shrugged. “Maybe it was the only way she could tell me. I don’t know.”
“She’s moved out?”
“Yes, today. I had to leave to come out here this morning while she was packing up the last of her things.” He paused. “What time for dinner tomorrow?” he asked, obviously wanting to change the subject.
“Let’s make it around seven. Caleb, are you allergic to anything, on a special diet, or do you just plain hate any foods?”
“No, Ms. Kelly.”
“Break yourself of that ‘Ms. Kelly’ habit by tomorrow night-I’m Irene.”
“Caleb,” Ben said, “do me a favor and see if Vince and Reed will let us have a look at Sheila’s evidence.”
As soon as Caleb was out of earshot, he said, “I’m not sure I’d make such a great dinner guest-lately, I’m never sure what kind of shape I’ll be in.”
“That’s why you should spend the time among friends. We will take you in any shape. No game face necessary. Which I expect you already know to be true.”
“Thanks.”
“I mean it.”
That merited a quick smile. “I know.”
I looked toward the slope. “It seems pretty amazing to me-almost unbelievable, I’d say-that she found teeth out there.”
“Supposedly the dog found them,” he said.
“You’re as suspicious as I am.”
He glanced toward the other group and said, “I’m sure everyone here is as skeptical as you are, if not more so. This is not for publication, but the remains we found today? We recovered all the teeth. That’s why we were so confident about the dental records match to Serre.”
“Then tell Anna that her new star team member planted evidence!”
“It wouldn’t do any good, Irene. First, she would say that it was an unfounded accusation. At this point, she’d be right. She can always claim that the teeth belonged to a second victim, one we’ve simply failed to find. Or a living victim taken by the killer, who knocked his or her teeth out.” He frowned over that for a moment.
I’m sure we were both thinking of Luke Serre, Gerald Serre’s missing son.
“As it happens,” Ben said, “the one person who could have caught Sheila planting evidence is Anna. Unfortunately, Anna probably saw what she wanted to see, and nothing more.”
“Why do you say that?”
He shook his head. “Over the past three months, Sheila has been doing everything she can to make Anna into a true believer.”
“True believer? Anna has that much faith in her?”
“It seems so to me. Sheila has worked skillfully and patiently to get a set of followers in our SAR group.”
“But something about her obviously bothers you.”
“I smell a phony, that’s all. All her initial approaches were to praise the other handlers effusively.”
“‘Good dog’ works on you guys, too?”
“Something like that. Not on all of us.”
“No, not on you, certainly.” Accepting praise was not his forte.
He shrugged. “That wasn’t the only weapon in her arsenal. She has numerous sad stories to tell about herself. Maybe they’re true. Maybe she really is a cancer survivor whose only child died when she got lost in the woods, and that loss really is what inspired her to be a searcher. Maybe it’s true that her abusive ex stalks her and tried to kill her by burning down her house around her, and the reason she moves so often is to avoid him.”
“Wow. Quite a history, but all of that could be checked out, you know.”
“Hell if I’m going to be the one to do it. Everyone else in the group feels sorry for her. Anna found someone who rented her a small house for less than half the going rate, and someone else who got her a part-time job. So maybe I’m the only cynic left in Las Piernas.”
“Maybe your group is especially vulnerable for some reason, or needs to look at how it screens handlers.”
“Maybe. I just keep thinking, who could be easier prey for someone who pretends to need help than a group of volunteer rescuers?”
“Hmm. I begin to see the picture.”
“And then there is Altair. I’ll admit he’s good. I’ve seen him at work on training exercises that Sheila couldn’t control.”
“Ones you devised?”
Another quick smile. “Yes. So the talent in the dog is there, and he is well trained. She’s not a bad handler, although she uses a lot of body language-I think sometimes she cues the dog in training exercises.”
“So?”
“She doesn’t seem to be as experienced as she should be, given the amount of time she’s been at this. And Altair’s too perfect. No team I know of makes as many finds as Sheila and Altair.”
“I take it you’ve pointed this out to other people in the SAR group?”
“Yes. Supposedly I’m jealous.” He sighed. “Remember that I said she’s been patient and skillful? I, on the other hand, have been impatient and clumsy at trying to discredit her.”
He might have said more, but the others were walking toward us then. Caleb was smiling. I wondered what had changed his mood. Reed held out the small bag with the teeth in it. “Caleb says you’re going back to the coroner’s office tonight. You want to include these with what you’re testing? Or should I have Vince leave them under his pillow and see if the tooth fairy leaves him a buck apiece?”
“A buck?” Vince said. “Jeez, I only got a quarter a tooth when I was a kid.”
“I think it’s higher in some households now,” I said as Ben took the bag and studied its contents for a moment. A look passed between him and Caleb, but I couldn’t read it.
“Are they children’s teeth?” I asked anxiously.
“At first glance,” Ben said, “it looks as if they are. But that’s preliminary.”
“You know more than you’re saying.”
“Just the opposite. I’m not saying more than I know. Certainly not guessing aloud so that you can fill a page of newsprint with speculation.”
I knew this mood, and so did Mark. We headed back to the paper.
AS we drove, Mark asked me about Sheila Dolson.
“She’s strange. Something’s not quite right about her. Ben suspects she’s a phony, at least to some degree. I have to say I agree with him, but I also think she’s…”
“What?”
“I was going to say calculating, but she’s not just calculating, she’s cold. That SAR group may have seen her charming side, but my own impression is that there’s a real mean streak in her. And I’m not just saying that because she almost ran me off the road today.”
“This whole deal is strange,” he said. “You think she planted those teeth there?”