“Do you actually believe that Manny killed Beth?”
She shrugged haplessly. “I don’t know who killed Beth. I never questioned Ray’s story.”
“And do you also believe that Manny died in a bar fight?”
“Totally.” Lindie was on surer ground. “Manny was drinking really heavily and was acting really belligerent. He was picking fights with everyone he met. I think it was his way of atoning for what happened…his personal method of suicide.”
Decker nodded, although he suspected that Lindie was now speaking as the loyal wife. It was clear to him that Belize Hernandez had killed Beth. Now he was just wondering if he killed his brother as well.
Lindie was still talking. “…kept saying he would rather die than to go back to prison. He told me I needed to help him, that we needed to start a new life together…from scratch. From where I was standing, that sounded like a great idea.”
Decker nodded.
“Belize actually convinced me that it was better that Manny had died. Now it looked like Manny and Beth had stolen the church money and disappeared together. I know now that I should have run when I had the chance back in Vegas. But you have to realize that I was scared out of my wits. What if Belize or Manny got mad and hunted me down? I knew that one of them had brutally killed Beth. I was convinced that they would have murdered me without blinking an eyelash.”
“Still, you went with Belize to southern New Mexico?”
“He had convinced me it was Manny who was the killer. It was very convenient for me to believe that.”
“Do you still believe that?”
“I never asked, Lieutenant. I’m not going to start now.”
Decker understood. “So you went with Belize to New Mexico.”
“Yes. We stayed there for about two years. As soon as we got there, Belize changed his name to Raymond Holmes. That was fine with me. Ray took odd jobs in construction. Then we moved to Arizona, where the building trade was booming. He worked for a firm and learned the business inside and out. My husband’s a smart man.”
“When did you become Mrs. Holmes?”
“About a year after we moved to Arizona. We settled down into some kind of parody of a normal existence. When Silicon Valley started its construction boom, we moved to San Jose. Ray began a business renovating old homes. He did very well financially. We had kids. We joined a real church. We never spoke about the incidents again.”
“And you never thought about leaving him?”
“I thought about leaving him all the time, Lieutenant. I thought about leaving him when I suspected he was having an affair with that flight attendant. It turns out I was right. I knew he was lying. For all his being a criminal, Ray was always a terrible liar. I could always tell when he was trying to snow me. I knew in my heart of hearts, he was lying about the flight attendant. I suppose I just chose not to believe the truth. You have to understand that I was very good at denying what I didn’t want to deal with. Staying with him was easier than divorce. And I think in the back of my mind, I didn’t know what Ray might do if I tried to divorce him and take half of my rightful assets.”
“You thought he might get violent?”
“Maybe. We had this weird relationship, Lieutenant. We were stuck with each other forever simply because neither of us trusted the other one out of our sight.”
44
T HE INTERVIEW LASTED close to eight hours. By the time the statement was typed up and signed by Lindie, it was time for breakfast. Decker had been up for thirty hours, kept awake by the sheer energy that comes with solution. Although he was sure in his mind that Belize Hernandez had murdered Beth Devargas, there wasn’t enough current evidence to sustain murder beyond a reasonable doubt. There was enough proof to assign Belize some degree of culpability in his brother and sister-in-law’s demise. New evidence might be uncovered, but the case was over thirty years old. People die, things get destroyed, memories fade…
Lindie Holmes would probably accept some kind of plea to lesser charges in exchange for her statement and testimony. Decker believed her when she stated unequivocally that she hadn’t been involved in either Beth’s or Manny’s murder, but the assignment of charges was up to the district attorney’s office. Lindie probably wasn’t looking at any jail time because of her cooperation. Why she chose to cooperate when she wasn’t required to do so was left up to speculation. Decker figured she had finally had enough of Raymond Holmes. The verification of her husband’s affair with Roseanne Dresden, the pilfering of her hard-earned cash, and thirty years of gnawing guilt had finally pushed her to the point of no return. She had confessed freely without much prompting. She not only wanted to be rid of the bastard, but she craved absolution for her part in the horrific past events. Decker couldn’t give her that kind of forgiveness. Neither could the Devargases, although their clemency would mean more than Decker’s. The only person who could truly exonerate Lindie Holms was dead.
The Holmes/Hernandez case would move past the grand jury: that much was certain. Decker had done all he could do. The rest was up to a good prosecutor and twelve intelligent people.
While Lindie was talking to the D.A., working out a deal to finally disentangle herself from her husband, Decker had a chance to catch up on his cell phone messages.
The news from Marge was good. “It glowed as blue as South Pacific. If there was that much protein after a cleaning, Lord only knew how much was originally there. We’re going after a warrant for the car. We expect something first thing in the morning.”
Decker glanced at his watch. It was already past “the first thing in the morning.” He called Marge on his cell. “Yo.”
“It’s been a while,” Marge said. “You must have had a productive evening.”
“I finished up about ten minutes ago.”
“Good stuff?”
“Yes, but it’s complicated. I’ll probably be back in L.A. around two. Did you pull the warrant?”
“We pulled the warrant, we have the car. Things are looking up.”
“Great. We’ll talk about it later. Cell lines aren’t protected, and for all I know, we’re being secretly taped by the enemy.”
“Who’s the enemy?”
“That remains to be seen.”
AS SOON AS the plane took off, Decker fell asleep. He didn’t stir until he felt a slight shaking, courtesy of a flight attendant. He roused himself to a state of semistupor, and was barely conscious enough to drive home from Burbank. He was too tired to notice that he had accidentally driven to his house in the West Valley instead of the station house. Rina took one look at him.
“Go immediately to bed. Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars.”
“Can’t.”
“How long have you been up?”
“Awhile.”
“You’re the living dead.”
“I’ve got to go back to work. I probably shouldn’t be driving. Can you take me back to the precinct?”
“You’re asking me to be an accomplice in this folly?”
“I’m finally getting somewhere with both cases. I can’t stop now.”
Rina sighed. “Did you eat?”
“Just tanked up on coffee and even that’s not working anymore. Maybe some protein will help.”
“Salami sandwich?”
“Way too strong.”
“Egg salad?”
“That would be terrific, but only if it’s no inconvenience.”
“Not at all. Go take a shower and I’ll make you some lunch. You’ll feel better after you’ve changed clothes and have eaten.”
A shower and food were exactly what he needed. He dragged himself into the bedroom. By the time he’d cleaned up, he felt slightly renewed. He knew he shouldn’t waste time by eating at home, but he needed a few moments with his wife to center his aching body. “So tell me what’s new?”
“Your daughter made Model UN.”