Cactus Heart

18

I took the back door into Peralta’s office suite and sat on his sofa while he finished an interview with a blonde TV reporter.

“So it’s okay for you to plant stories,” I said when she and her cameraman had gone.

He walked over to his little refrigerator and pulled out a Diet Coke. He didn’t offer me anything. “I didn’t used to date that one. Anyway, I’m the boss. So why are you here? Progress?”

“I’d call it that. The DNA test came back. Unfortunately, it doesn’t match the two living Yarnell brothers.” I ran through the information from the meeting, cheating off my notes for the technical stuff. Peralta swayed back and forth in his desk chair, slurping from the soft drink.

“So it’s inconclusive, but we’re probably not going to get anywhere unless the Yarnell brothers cooperate, and that’s not going to happen. So I’m on to the next case.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” The chair was at a dead stop.

“Whoa, what?”

“What the hell do you mean, you’re on to the next thing. You haven’t fixed this goddamned thing yet.”

I sank deeper into the thin cushions of the sofa. I had come into the room on the wings of liberation. I should have known it wouldn’t go down that way.

“It’s a city case.”

“So?”

“You know, a city. This one is called Phoenix. It has a police department, a good one, despite Lieutenant Hawkins. The bodies were found in a building inside the city limits. City police departments tend to frown on interference from the sheriff’s office.”

“So?”

I tossed my notebook aside. “I can’t believe you!”

“Chief Wilson still wants you on the case.” He stood, mountainous behind the desk.

“How can he still want me on the case when the meeting just finished up five blocks from here?”

“He knows. He does. And I want you on the case. Anyway, the kidnapping happened in the county. The old geezer’s hacienda was in the county back then.” He sat back down, looking pleased with himself.

The idea of spending more time in Hawkins’ office made my stomach hurt. “Why do you care?” I demanded. “Never mind, I know. When are you going to catch this guy?”

“That’s just what little Rachel there wanted to know. And I had to be patient and diplomatic with her. I don’t have to with you.” After a pause, he added, “It set us back that Lindsey had to go for a few days.”

“Well, it was obviously for nothing important.” The mention of Lindsey’s name instantly made me miss her more. I said, “Why do you need her anyway? Cut her some slack. She just lost her mother.”

“She wanted this job,” he said. “And she’s getting along really well with Patrick Blair. Not my business, Mapstone, but she really likes him. He really likes her.” My stomach manufactured a tidal wave of bile.

He looked at me mildly. “Mapstone, you used to have such a good attitude, when you were a young deputy.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“That was before you got your mind pickled in shit working around all those eggheads,” he said. “Your case doesn’t seem that hard to me.”

Everything I wanted to say would have just made him angry, meaning even more determined to keep me where I was.

“We’ve got the skeletons, right? The DNA test proves they’re twins. How many other twins went missing back then?”

“None that I know of. I could check newspaper clips and missing person’s records.”

“See, you’re already moving ahead. And you’ve got that watch, right? Is that the Yarnell brand on it?” I nodded. “See, it has to be the twins.”

I thought so, too. But I didn’t know how to get the case off dead center if the Yarnells wouldn’t cooperate. And I had been ordered away by Hawkins. None of this made any impression on Peralta.

“Hawkins doesn’t matter.” He was back to swinging his chair back and forth, drinking the Diet Coke. “Chief Wilson and I agreed that you will take this case alone, now. They have plenty to keep them busy, and you have special expertise for this kind of thing.”

“Max Yarnell?”

“Try to be more charming, Mapstone. And go see his brother. Sharon and I met him once, at his art gallery. Seemed like a nice guy.”

“I give up.” I stood to go. “I’ll give you some theater. Distract the media. America’s Toughest Sheriff. Blah, blah, blah.”

“No.” His voice was like a shot. “I want you to investigate this case.” He was standing and his onyx eyes were wide in his immobile face. “I want you to gather evidence. I really want it closed. Those two little boys died an awful death, and this sheriff’s office will never forget the victims.”

If you didn’t know Peralta the way I did, you’d have thought he was just making a speech.