'I heard the call over the radio and responded,' Budget explained. 'And there's the same Jeep right where I'd seen it last, the suspect hiding on the floor, the gun in plain view.'
'So he never moved after you pulled him,' Hammer said. 'The Jeep was right here when the victim was robbed at the money stop and then murdered behind Kmart.'
'That's how it appears,' West said.
'What about his demeanor?' Hammer stared at Bubba.
'Extremely agitated, sweating profusely,' Budget replied. 'He has blood on his tee shirt. We said we'd like to take the shirt to the lab, but he was under no obligation to let us. He was compliant.'
'Anything else that might link him to the homicide?' Hammer asked.
'Not so far. Not until we can see if the bullets in the victim were fired from his gun. But it's kind of doubtful, to be honest. The shells we found in the car are nine-millimeter, ejected from a pistol.'
'This is all very strange,' Hammer said. 'And it sounds like all we've really got on him is a class one misdemeanor.'
'Yes, ma'am.'
Hammer stared again at the fat man in the back seat of the cruiser. He stared back at her with exhausted, miserable eyes.
'Well, it doesn't appear to me that we have probable cause to hold him,' Hammer said with extreme disappointment.
'We don't,' West agreed. 'But we couldn't be sure of that at first.'
'It's hard for me to imagine he was sitting here while a woman was robbed and never saw a thing,' Hammer remarked angrily as she thought again of Bubba and Smudge and their broken conversation.
'Nobody ever sees a thing,' West said.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Governor Mike Feuer was a tall, lanky man in his early sixties, with piercing eyes that burned with compassion and fierce truth. Republicans often compared him to Abraham Lincoln without a beard. Democrats called him The Fuhrer.
'I understand completely. And of course I'm upset, too,' he was saying into a secure phone in the back of his bulletproof black limousine as he rode through downtown.
'Governor, have you seen it already yet?' Lelia Ehrhart's voice came over a line that could not be tapped or picked up by cell phones, scanners or CB radios.
'No.'
'You must be able to.'
He sighed, glancing at his watch. Governor Feuer had ten meetings scheduled today. He was supposed to call at least six legislators who were fighting hard for and against House and Senate bills flowing through a typically turgid General Assembly.
He was supposed to be prepped for an interview with USA Today, sign a proclamation, meet with his cabinet, be briefed by the House Finance Subcommittee and hold two press conferences. It was his mother's eighty-sixth birthday and he had yet to get around to sending flowers. His back was acting up again.
'If you could just have time to take to drive through and see it for yourself in person, Governor,' said Ehrhart. 'I think you'll be shocking, and if you aren't taking a look today, it's a risk because it has eventually to be removed at some point to be restored. It won't do any good at the most if you are looking later, because by then it will be original again.'
'Then the damage must not be too extensive,' he replied reasonably as plainclothes Executive Protection Unit state police officers rode in unmarked Chevrolet Caprices in front of his limousine and behind it.
'It's the action of it that matters, Governor,' she went on in her unique accent.
Governor Feuer imagined her on the floor as a child, laboring over building blocks that she could not quite get in the right order.
The vile deliberation of it,' she was saying.
'Frankly, I'm more concerned with…" 'Please take a minutes. And I wasn't intentioned to interrupt.'
She did mean to, but the governor let it pass because he was a secure, fair man. He believed in second chances. Lelia Ehrhart was entitled to one more this day before he hung up on her.
'Of course, the cemetery's closed and won't be opening to the public this minutes,' Ehrhart said. 'But I'll make sure it's unlocked isn't hooked for you to get in.'
The governor pressed the intercom button.
'Jed?'
'Yes, sir,' Jed replied from the other side of the glass partition, his attentive eyes in the rearview mirror.
'We need to swing over to Hollywood Cemetery.' Governor Feuer glanced at his watch again. 'We'll have to make it quick.'
'Whatever you say, sir.'
'Lelia,' the governor said into the phone. 'Consider it done.'
'Oh, you're so wonderful!'
'I'm not, really,' he replied wearily as he thought of his mother's birthday again.
Lelia Ehrhart returned the portable phone to its charger inside her completely equipped gym on the third floor of her brick mansion behind wrought-iron gates on West Gary Street. Her brow was damp, her arms quivering from working latissimus dorsi, rhomboids, trapezius, triceps, deltoids and pectoralis on the incline, chest and shoulder presses, and the lat pulldown, and the low row, just before the governor had returned her phone call.
'When now?' she cheerfully asked her trainer, Lonnie Fort.
'Seated row,' he said.
'No most rowing. I simply can never.' She sipped Evian and dabbed her face with a towel. 'I think we've got to all those muscles, Lonnie. I really don't like working it out this early, anyway. My entire system's in the state of shock. It's like getting out of bed and jumping on the Arctic Ocean. And I'm not a little bit penguin,' she said in a cute voice. 'Nothing cold-natured with me.'
'I'm sorry we had to meet so early, Mrs. Ehrhart.'
'Not your fault, not in the smallest. I forgot you had a damn dental appointed.'
Lonnie studied the circuit Ehrhart was supposed to complete this morning, recording the number of reps and their weights.
'Thanks for fitting me on,' she said. 'But it wasn't very nice that Bull to scheduled you at the same time of nine A.M. in the morning when we always do this. Of course, he has so much people working for him. He probably knew nothing to remember about it since others always do for him so he doesn't.'
'I'm sure you're right, Mrs. Ehrhart.'
The son of a bitch. She thought of her wealthy dentist husband with all his radio ads and strip mall offices and sycophantic employees. He'd had affairs with three dental hygienists that she knew of, and although the number most likely far exceeded that, what difference did it make? Lelia Ehrhart would never forgive him for the first one.
'So tell to me, Lonnie, will Bull go to crown all your teeths like he does all everybody else's?' Ehrhart asked her trainer, who was so beautifully constructed she wanted to trace her fingers and tongue over every inch of him.
'He says he can give me a Hollywood smile,' Lonnie answered.
'Ha! He says this always to everyone.'
'I don't know. His hygienists sure have pretty smiles. They told me he crowned all their teeth.'
Just the word hygienist pierced Ehrhart like a foil.
'But I don't know,' Lonnie said again.
'Don't do it! No!' Ehrhart told him. 'One time it's done there's no to undone it and it's permanently. Bull's grinded up all the teeths in the city, Lonnie.'
'Well, he's sure made a good living,' said Lonnie.
He attached the short extension cable to the lower pulley of the Trotter MG2100 total fitness machine. He attached the revolving straight bar, his sculpted muscles sliding and bunching beneath smooth, tan skin.
'You'll end up with at the end with all this little nibs, looking like a man-eating cannibals. You'll get TMJ and lisps when you talk and end up with several roots canals,' the dentist's wife warned him. 'Your teeths are so beauty!'