“You weren’t suspicious?”
“Man, those days were such a haze. I had taken a leave of absence for a month and I wasn’t doing anything except drinking…smoking, if you get my drift.”
“Got it.”
“So Marina gives me twenty-five big ones and tells me to clean up Roseanne’s Beemer, I figured that the bitch actually had a good idea. So that’s what I did. I changed the car inside and out…it was a real mess…and that’s the last I thought about it. Then you guys started sniffing around, telling me that Roseanne didn’t die in the crash. The second the police got involved, I knew Roseanne’s father-in-law must have said something. The man absolutely hates my guts. That’s okay. I don’t like him, either. So I wasn’t concerned because why should I be nervous? I didn’t do anything wrong…I mean, I cheated on my wife, but she cheated on me. I certainly didn’t hurt her. Even after that lady detective found the phone, I still figure so what? It’s only a phone.”
“Why didn’t you just give it to the police instead of destroying it?”
“Because, I don’t know…I was shocked to see it. Like I told you, it must have fallen out of Roseanne’s purse when I pushed her. You guys were already on my case. I wasn’t going to admit to a bad fight on the morning she died. You can understand that.”
“I do.”
“Anyway, when the search of the condo came up dry for you, I thought, ‘Finally, that’s that!’ Then you started in on my car…I called my lawyer up as soon as you executed the warrant to search my car. He asked me if I had anything to worry about and I told him no, I didn’t. So he told me not to say anything if the police ask me questions, and that I should call him if things got hairy. When you called me up, saying that there were just a few questions you needed to ask, I figured why should I pay that jerk two-fifty an hour just to answer a few questions?”
A moment of silence.
“I probably should have called him up.” He paused. “But I didn’t do anything. Why do I need a lawyer? I don’t know what happened to Roseanne!”
“She was murdered in her car.”
“I wasn’t there. I didn’t run after her. Marina ran after her. Why don’t you ask her what happened? She may actually have an answer for you!”
46
A S IT TURNED out, Patricia Childress a.k.a. Marina Alfonse had absolutely nothing to say. Thirty seconds into the questioning, she sobered up enough to ask for a lawyer-exactly what Dresden should have done. Decker thought that maybe he hadn’t asked for representation because he had actually thought he had done nothing wrong. And since there was no physical evidence that linked him to the murder scene in the car, maybe he was telling the truth when he insisted he wasn’t there. Dresden was eventually charged with tampering with evidence-suspended sentence and two years’ probation. Although the law may have allowed him to slip through the cracks, insurance wasn’t going to play so gently. He’d be tied up for years in court before he’d see a single red cent from his wife’s death.
Patricia Childress wasn’t going anywhere. The police had her bloody fingerprint at the scene, but most important, the knife that Oliver had pulled out of Childress’s purse had minute amounts of Roseanne Dresden’s blood on it. She had been charged with premeditated murder. Since she faced a possible death sentence, she pleaded guilty to murder two and a minimum sentence of twenty-four years in prison in exchange for her full confession, telling police exactly what happened in Roseanne’s Beemer, and also where she had buried the body.
At the personal invitation of the Lodestones, Decker flew up to Fresno to attend Roseanne’s funeral. Afterward, Farley, somber and uncomfortable in a black suit, thanked him with a firm handshake and a whisper of a job well done. Shareen squeezed his hand, and with tears running down her face, thanked him profusely for all his hard work. He flew back down to L.A. on the same day and never heard from either one of them again.
IT WAS STILL an hour away from Shabbos when Rina rushed out of the kitchen to answer the knock on the door. She was having a crowd tonight. Hannah had invited two friends to sleep over, and Jacob, on semester break, had brought home a couple of college buddies. She had also invited her parents, plus another couple who were new in the area. Counting Koby and Cindy and Peter-if he made it home from work on time-she was cooking for thirteen.
She couldn’t imagine Cindy and Koby coming this early. Maybe it was one of Hannah’s friends. She wiped her hands on her apron, threw open the door, and found herself looking at two strangers in their seventies.
The man was wearing an ill-fitting suit and tie; the woman was wearing a green dress, black orthopedic shoes, and had her gray hair knotted into a bun. They were dark-skinned Hispanics with wrinkled faces that had endured lots of sun damage. The woman was carrying an old-fashioned, patent-leather structured bag that was looped around her arm. She was also holding a plate of fresh and dried fruit. They looked as if they had just come back from church-fifty years ago.
“Hi.” Rina smiled. “Can I help you?”
The woman spoke. “We’re looking for Lieutenant Decker.”
Rina kept smiling, wondering what she should do. Peter was always telling her to be very careful, that things happened when they were least expected. For all Rina knew, the two of them could be A-list terrorists.
A terrorist with a fruit plate?
“I believe he’s still at work,” Rina told them. “Would you like me to give you the address of the police station?”
“We called,” the man groused out. “They said he’d left for the day.”
“Oh.” Again, Rina smiled but still didn’t let them inside the door. “So he must be on his way home. Is there something I can help you with?”
The woman’s eyes watered. “Your husband was very kind to us.”
“And you are?”
“Sandra and Peter Devargas.”
Immediate recognition. Rina said, “Oh, please come in.”
“We can wait outside,” Peter grumped.
“You look very busy,” Sandra said.
“I’m always busy,” Rina said. “Please come in.” She stepped away from the threshold. “I insist!”
Reluctantly, the couple walked inside the living room. The woman said, “This is for your husband and you. Just a little something.”
“Thank you so much.” Rina relieved her of the fruit plate. “Please sit. Would you like something to drink? Water? Iced tea?”
“Something smells good,” Devargas said. “I guess anything would smell good after eating fast food for the last twenty-four hours.” His wife poked him in the ribs. The man said, “What?”
Rina smiled. “Thank you for the compliment. I happen to be cooking for our Sabbath, which we observe on Friday night. I made plenty of food. Would you like to stay for dinner?”
Devargas said, “That sound-” Another poke. “What? The woman asked us.”
“We’re fine, but thank you,” Sandra said.
Rina chuckled. “Honestly, it’s not a problem.”
Devargas shrugged, but Sandra was reluctant. Having dealt with older, ethnic women her entire life, Rina felt something click inside her head. “Really, do stay. I’m having a lot of people. I could always use another pair of hands.”
Sandra’s knuckles were white from clutching her purse. “Well, if you need some help, I’d be delighted to help you.”
“Great. You can make the salad. Just leave your coat and handbag on the couch. Peter will hang it up.”
“Where do I hang it?” Devargas asked.
“Sorry, I meant Lieutenant Decker. He can do it when he gets home, which should be pretty soon. Mr. Devargas, you sit down and relax while you can. There are going to be a lot of people coming in and out in the next half hour. If you wouldn’t mind catching the door, it would help me out.”