Above the Law (63 page)

“He’ll be hurt.”

“Hurt? That’s all? He’s a lifer cop, you betrayed the heart and soul of what he believes in.”

The glare she gave me would melt icebergs. “Life isn’t always tidy, Mr. Garrison. I have no regrets about anything I did. We’ve been poor for a hundred and fifty years, ever since you stole our land from us, stole our lives. Drugs aren’t the worst thing that’s ever happened, Indians have been doing hallucinogens forever, it’s part of our religion: It hasn’t killed us. Poverty, disease, high infant mortality, alcoholism, all the shit you gave us—those are real calamities. Who cares, if some bored Anglo housewife in the San Fernando Valley wants to snort powder up her nose, or a junkie in Chicago chooses to smoke crack? What business is that of mine? My people are my business. And I was helping them. You don’t like it, give me back my country and I’ll abide by my own laws.”

I backed away from her. She could be contagious. “Tom Miller isn’t your people.”

“He’ll understand,” she said unwaveringly. “He’s seen the poverty up close for thirty years. You’d be surprised:”

I already was.

“What are you going to do now?” she asked. “There’s no records of the money, we’ve been super-careful, you’ll never get us on that. And I didn’t kill Juarez, and neither did Wayne. Reynaldo was our savior. I cried when I heard he’d been killed.”

“Who did kill him, then?” By now I was almost positive I knew who it was, but when you’re in the middle of the lake already, it doesn’t cost anything to throw out another line.

“Jerome,” she said with certainty. “You’ve got him dead to rights.”

Whether I did or not, she was bullshitting me. Even now, after she’d caught both tits in the wringer.

“You’d want it to be Jerome.”

“Jerome cut down my money tree. Of course I want it to be him. It
is
him,” she declared fiercely. “It has to be.”

“What if it isn’t?” I hadn’t said that to anyone outside my brain trust.

“It is, even if it isn’t,” she insisted. “If he hadn’t done what he did, Juarez would be alive, and we’d all be better off for it.”

Her rationale was twisted, selfish, destructive. “Maybe you weren’t dealing drugs directly, but you helped enable Juarez’s people to. You’re not clean, Mrs. Bearpaw—you’re filthy. I know the way your people have to live is shit, it’s unconscionable—but that can’t justify doing business with drug dealers. And it didn’t solve your problem, did it? You and your son are going to jail, and your tribe will never get that property now.”

Her hollowness was too twisted for me to handle. I had to get out of here.

“I’m going to get who killed Juarez, you and I both know that—but it’s far better for the world that he’s dead.”

She clung to her attitude like a barnacle. “Not for me.”

Tom Miller was waiting for me in my office, slumped in a chair. He was ashen.

“You’ve arrested my deputy.”

“And his mother.”

His look was pure distress. “You know about us? Louisa?”

I nodded. “Your son told me.”

“Aw, Jesus.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. They both think you’re the greatest guy in the world.”

“No, I’m not.” He shook his head from side to side. “I betrayed my wife, and had a child out of wedlock.”

“If those are the worst sins you’ve ever committed, you still have a fighting chance of getting into heaven.”

“I’m not religious that way.”

“One less problem to worry about.”

“I lied about my investments, too.” This had been quite a morning for confessions. “I didn’t make that money playing stocks. I wouldn’t have the guts to do that, or the foresight. That money was from my wife’s life insurance policy. From an old policy I bought back when I was with the Bureau. It had nothing to do with being smart.” He gave me a sideways, embarrassed look. “I wanted to look like a big shot. Like I was modern. Not a relic, which is what I’ve become.”

He was so down in the dumps it was terrible. I couldn’t even fake trying to make him feel better—I had to fill him in on my conversations with Louisa and Wayne. It got worse and worse. He kept shaking his head.

“For the record”—I had to do this officially—“it wasn’t you, was it? You had nothing to do with it?”

“No, it wasn’t me.”

“For a long time, I thought it was.”

“I know.”

“You never said anything to me.”

“What was I going to say, ‘I’m innocent of a crime I haven’t been charged with’? You’re a smart man, Luke. I knew that sooner or later you’d figure it out.”

“It took me a long time.”

He grimaced. “Me, too.”

“When did you?”

He was sheepish. “Only now. Hearing about Louisa and Wayne.”

I threw him some rope. “Wayne says he didn’t do it. That he freed Juarez from the trailer, but didn’t pull the trigger out there.”

Miller leaned over, burying his head in his hands. “I hope that’s true.” His shoulders were shaking from his crying, this rock of a man. “This is a nightmare. How in the world did this ever happen?”

“It’s a long story, Tom. You know more of it than I do, I’m sure.”

He nodded.

“What about Juarez laundering money through the tribe? Did you know about that?”

He shook his head. “No. Louisa kept it from me to protect me, I’m sure. She said it was money out-of-state tribes were donating to them, to get a piece of the Prop 5 action when it happened. I bought it.”

He paused. “I didn’t want to look under the rock,” he berated himself. “Man, did she play me for a fool. An old fool’s the worst fool, isn’t he? You’re not supposed to be blinded by love when you get to be as old as me.”

“I think you were right the first time,” I consoled him. “She was protecting you.”

He kept shaking his head. I could see that my attempt at solace was small comfort.

Nora was my final call before I went to the judge. I caught her at home; she was on her way out the door for the courtroom, to hear the final arguments. She agreed to wait for me. She was curious, of course, about why I wanted to see her. I told her there had been a big break in the case, involving Jerome. That excited her—she was eager to know what it was, right then. I told her I’d be there in a short while, that it would be better to hear it-all in person.

I picked up Kate Blanchard en route. I wanted a witness with me, preferably a woman, when I broke the news. I was clear with Miller about not tipping Nora in advance—this was my show. He was fine with that.

Kate arched an eyebrow as she got into the car and saw me. “What cat dragged you in?”

“One with sharp teeth.”

She was beside herself with glee as I recited the predawn events. “Goddamn Sam!” She pounded the dashboard, she was so jazzed. “This is major high drama. I mean, it’s insane!”

“You’re a big reason for all this. You’re a dogged detective, lady.”

“Thank you, kind sir. As long as I’m not a dog.”

In another life, she’d be a hell of a fine old lady. I already have one of those; besides, we’re great friends, also something to be prized.

Nora was surprised that Kate was with me—maybe
disappointed
is a better word. She was wearing a clingy dress that showed her figure to good advantage—this was going to be her day in court as well as mine—the culmination of her efforts to find justice.

We sat in her living room, Kate and me on one couch, Nora across the coffee table from us, perched on the edge of the cushion. She was having coffee; Kate and I had declined. This wasn’t a time to have anything fragile or liquid in my hands.

“What’s up?” Nora asked, looking from me to Kate and back. “What’s new with Jerome we don’t already know?” She glanced at her watch. “You start closing arguments in less than an hour.” She took a sip of coffee. She was drinking from a china cup, a good one.

“You might want to put your coffee down,” I cautioned her.

“What?” She was antsy, wanting to know. She put the cup down on the table.

I leaned toward her. “We arrested Wayne Bearpaw this morning.”

That froze her. “Wayne Bearpaw? Deputy Bearpaw? For what?”

“Perjury. Resisting arrest.” I paused. “Accessory to murder.”

She rocked in place. “Jesus.” Another look at Kate, back to me. “Wayne was in cahoots with Jerome? How in…what in the world is that all about? How did he and Jerome hook up?”

“I don’t know exactly, yet,” I said. “It’s complicated. One piece of it is, Bearpaw’s mother’s been laundering money for Juarez. Ever since he built the compound. Before, even.”

“That’s incredible. Louisa Bearpaw? You know that for a fact?”

“She’s confessed to it.”

“Oh my God!” Her hands fluttered above her waist. She pushed them down into her lap, one on top of the other. “Louisa’s one of my closest friends.” A look of consternation crossed her face. “This isn’t going to screw up the trial, is it?”

I gave an anything-goes shrug. “It’s all up in the air now.”

That was the last thing she wanted to hear. “That’s great!” she spat. “That’s fucking wonderful! All this time, and money, and energy. Does Judge McBee know?” she asked, her mind spinning.

I shook my head. “I told him I needed to push my closing back an hour, but I didn’t tell him why. I wanted to tell you first.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.” She jumped up. “Bill Fishell. He has to be told. I’ll call him.” She ran toward the phone in the kitchen.

“He already knows.”

She stopped cold, turned back to me. “He does?”

I nodded. “I called him last night.”

She came back, sat down slowly. “What did he have to say?”

“He was as surprised and shocked as I was.” I leaned toward her. “You can talk to him directly, yourself. He’s here in town, in my office.”

She frowned. “Bill Fishell is here in Blue River? When did he get here?”

“Five this morning. He was with me when we arrested the Bearpaws.”

I could see her mind going a mile a minute. “Does Tom Miller know about this?”

“He knows.”

She was thinking on the run. “He must be in shock, he’s so close to them.”

“He’s taking it hard,” I told her, greatly understanding Miller’s grief. “But he understands. And yes, it was a terrible blow to him.”

She looked at me, her body rocking. Slowly she said, “Then you know about—”

I cut her off. “Thanks for clueing me in.” I was being deliberately curt with her.

“How was I to know that would matter?” she bristled. “And what are you so mad about?”

“Everything matters, Nora,” I said darkly. “I’ve found that out, the hard way. Everything.”

She was defensive and unapologetic simultaneously.

“Like what, Luke? I’m not sorry I didn’t tell you about Miller and the Bearpaws. No one knows about that, it’s a well-kept secret. Anyway, that has nothing to do with Juarez’s murder. I can’t be expected to tell you the history of everything that’s happened in Muir County over the last thirty years, can I?”

“Anything that touches on this, even remotely, you should have.”

“Well, like what? Besides that.”

I sat up straight. “Things about you.”

She gave me a funny look. “What things?”

Her eyes darted to Kate for a second, as if seeking some kind of woman-to-woman bonding coalition against me. Kate returned her look with a noncommittal stare.

“What things?” Nora asked me again.

“There are an awful lot of coincidences here, Nora. They’re piling up.”

I pulled a few sheets of paper out of my back pocket on which I’d scribbled some notes the night before.

“This connection with Juarez’s contractor. It still bothers me.”

“Oh, come on, Luke,” she said, clearly exasperated. “We’ve already gone over this. I’m sorry I don’t have twenty-twenty hindsight, okay? How was I supposed to know? I wouldn’t have used Dean if I’d known. But how could I have? Juarez was never there.”

“Remind me again—how did you get on the property? Juarez’s man Portillo said it was heavily guarded, from day one.”

She shrugged—too nonchalantly, I thought. “Not when I was there. That must have been later, after they finished it.” She took a sip of coffee.

“So you met the architect before it was finished.”

“Yes. You know that.”

My eyes flicked over at Kate for an instant. “That’s funny.”

“What is?” Nora asked crossly.

“The first time you ever showed me the place, the day after I came up here, you said you had never been there until after the killings. But you’d been there plenty of times before, hadn’t you?”

“No. I mean…yes, of course I was up there before. I told you that. I never said I hadn’t been there before Juarez was killed.”

“I must be mistaken,” I said, staring at her coolly. “You sure you didn’t say that?”

“I’m positive, Luke,” she said firmly. “I had been there before it was finished. What I said, I’m sure, was that I hadn’t been there since it was built. Before Juarez’s group moved in.”

“Okay,” I said. “Obviously, I misheard you.”

“Obviously,” she said tartly.

I looked at my notes again. “And paying for the house, all in cash. Why didn’t you take out a mortgage?”

“Has anything I’ve ever said registered with you? I told you, my parents gave me the money in a lump sum. I could have gotten a home loan, I suppose, but this way I don’t have the debt.” She was becoming increasingly agitated with my questions. “It’s my money, what concern is it of yours?”

I felt Kate tensing, next to me. “We couldn’t find any documentation of your parents giving you any money, Nora. Not in that amount.”

She put her cup down hard, rattling the saucer. “You’ve been investigating
me
?”

“I’ve been investigating everyone. Including you.”

She stood. “I find that offensive, Luke. I find that ugly.”

“Where did the money come from, Nora?” I wasn’t going to stop.

“My parents, like I said. You want me to get a letter from them to give the principal?” She was livid—a vein was popping involuntarily in her neck. “I don’t want to have any more of this conversation,” she said abruptly. “I want you to leave. Both of you. Now.” She pointed to the door.

I waggled my head back and forth slowly. “That’s a bad idea. It could give me a worse impression that I already have. I don’t feel good, okay? I was up all night, watching my case go up in flames.
So sit down and answer my questions
.”