"I appreciate that, Sheriff. Hopefully it won't be unpleasant."
Haas smiled. "Haven't been 'Sheriff' for a while. Quit right after the Ardullos, started selling insurance for my father-in-law. Two years later, there was no need for a sheriff- no more town."
"Who closed it down?"
"Group called BCA Leisure bought all the land. One of those multinational deals-Japanese, Indonesian, British. The American partners are a development group out in Denver. Back then they were buying up land right and left."
"Was there any resistance from the residents?"
"Not a peep," he said. "Farming's always been a tough life, and inTreadway only two families made a serious living from it, the Ardullos and the Crimrninses. Between them, they owned ninety percent of the land. The rest of us were just here to keep their businesses going-like sharecroppers. So once they sold out, it wasn't much of a brainer. The sheriff job was only part-time, anyway. I was already living up in Bakersfield, near my in-laws. Doing bookkeeping for my father-in-law."
"When did you move back here?"
"Five years ago." He smiled again. "Like I said, it was near my in-laws. Seriously, I decided to pack it in when I figured I had enough policies tucked away to be comfortable. And Bakersfield was starting to look like L.A. We were thinking out of state, maybe Nevada, then this unit came up-a lucky deal, because Fairway units don't stay vacant very long. We said, why not. The air's great, terrific fishing, they show movies, you can do all your shopping right here. We travel half the year, a small place is perfect. We don't go mobiling, this thing's as rooted as any regular house. We fly. Vegas, when there's a show we want to see. Alaska, Canada. This year, we did a big one. London, England. Saw the Chel-sea Flower Show because Marvelle likes flowers. Beautiful country. When they say green, they mean it."
His tone had relaxed. I hated what I had to do, decided to approach the task indirectly. "The Ardullos and the Crimminses. A boy named Derrick Crimmins was quoted in an article I read about the crime."
"Carson Crimmins's son. The younger one-he had two boys, Derrick and Carson Junior, Cliff. Yeah, I remember both of them hanging around the crime scene, along with a bunch of other kids. I don't remember Derrick talking to the press, but sure, I can see him shooting off his mouth, he always had a mouth on him. -So, tell me, why do the police send a psychologist to talk about the Monster? Don't tell me it's some kind of evaluation, they're thinking of letting him out."
"No," I said. "He's locked up tight, no release in sight. I just saw him. He's pretty deteriorated."
"Deteriorated," he said. "Like what, a vegetable?"
"Close to."
"Well that's good. He shouldn't be alive… Deteriorated- the village idiot, that's how everyone saw him. Myself included. He was treated with kindness, pity, it's a big-city lie that small-town people are prejudiced and intolerant, like those morons you see on Jerry Springer. The Monster received more kindness in Treadway than he ever would've in L.A. Him and his mother. A couple of drifters, not a penny in their pockets, they just showed up one day and got taken in."
Haas stopped, waited for comment. I just nodded.
He said, "She was no charm-school gal, Noreen. And he was certainly no prize. But no one let 'em starve."
"Was she a difficult person?"
"Not difficult, but not exactly pleasant, either. She was sloppy-looking, kind of puffy in the face, like she cried all night. You'd try talking to her and she'd hang her head and mutter. Not as crazy as Ardis, but if you ask me they were both retarded. Him more than her, but she was no genius. It was nothing but kindness on the Ardullos' part, taking her and Ardis in. She could cook, but Terri Ardullo was a fine cook herself. It was charity, pure and simple. Done it in a way to give them some dignity."
"Scott and Terri were charitable people."
"Salt of the earth. Scott was a nice fellow, but it was Terri had the ideals. Religious, involved in all the church activities. The church was on land donated by Butch Ardullo-Scott's dad. Presbyterian. Butch was born a Catholic, but Kathy- his wife-was Presbyterian, so Butch converted and built the church for her. That was a sad thing. Demolishing that church. Butch and his crew built it themselves-beautiful little white-board thing with carved moldings and a steeple they had made by some Danish fellow over in Solvang. Butch's house was something, too. Three stories, also white board, with a big stone porch, land stretching out in all directions. They grew walnuts and peaches commercially but kept a small citrus grove out in back. You could smell the blossoms all the way out to the main road. They gave most of the oranges and lemons away. The Crimmins place was almost as big, but not as tasteful. Two mansions, opposite sides of the valley."
His eyes clouded. "I remember Scott when he was a kid. Running around the groves, always cheerful. The house was happy. They were rich folks, but down-to-earth."
He got up, filled a glass with bottled water from the fridge. "Sure you don't want a drink?"
"Thanks, I will."
He brought both tumblers to the coffee table. Two gulps and his was empty.
"Refill time," he said. "Don't want to parch up like a raisin. Need more BTUs on the A.C."
Another trip to the kitchenette. He drained the glass, ran his finger around the rim, set off a high-pitched note. "You still haven't told me why you're here."
I began with Claire's murder. Her name drew no look of recognition. When I recounted Peake's babbling, he said, "I can't believe you came all the way up here because of that."
"Right now, there's very little else to go on, Mr. Haas."
"You just said he's deteriorated, so who cares what he says? Now, what is it exactly you think I can help you with?"
"Anything you can tell me about Peake. That night."
His hands flew together and laced. Fingertips reddened as they pressed into knuckles. Nails blanched the color of clotted cream.
"I've spent a long time trying to forget that night, and it doesn't sound like you've got any good reason to make me go through it again."
"I'm sorry," I said. "If it's too difficult-"
"Damn thirst," he said, springing up. "Must be going diabetic or something."
Chapter 22
Haas returned looking no happier, but resigned.
"It happened at night," he said, "but no one found out till the morning. I was the second to know. Ted Alarcon called me-he was one of Scott's field supervisors. Scott and Ted were supposed to drive up early to Fresno, take a look at some equipment. Scott was going to pick up Ted, and when he didn't, Ted called the house. No answer, so he drove over, went in."
"The door was open?" I said.
"No one locked their doors. Ted figured Scott had overslept, maybe he should go upstairs and knock on the bedroom door. That shows you the kind of guy Scott was-a Mexican supervisor felt comfortable going upstairs. But on the way, Ted passed through the kitchen and saw it. Her." He licked his lips. "After that, God only knows how he had the strength to go upstairs."
"The papers said he followed the bloody sneaker prints."
"Ted was a gutsy guy, Vietnam vet, saw combat."
"Any idea where I can locate him?"
"Forest Lawn," he said. "He died a couple years later. Cancer." He patted his sternum. "Fifty years old. He smoked, but nothing will convince me the shock didn't break down his health."
He sat up straighter, as if affirming his own robustness.
I said, "So Ted went upstairs, saw the rest of it, and called you."
"I was still in bed, the sun had just come up. The phone rings and someone's breathing hard, gasping, sounding crazy, I can't make head nor tail out of it, Marvelle's saying, 'What's going on?' Finally, I recognize Ted's voice, but he's still not making any sense, I hear 'Mr. Scott! Miss Terri!' " He shook his head. "I just knew something bad had happened. When I got there, Ted was on the front porch with a big pool of vomit in front of him. He was a dark-skinned fellow, but that morning he was white as a sheet. He had blood on his jeans and shoes, at first I thought he 'd done something crazy. Then he started throwing up some more, managed to stand up, just about collapsed. I had to catch him. All the while he's crying and pointing back at the house."