The Boys from Santa Cruz

CHAPTER TWO
1

A little more than an hour after losing their prime suspect, whose death had provided him with the most unimpeachable alibi of all, the ad hoc investigative duo of Pender and Epstein left Marshall County in Pender’s dust-covered, dirt-spattered rental car, with Skip behind the wheel and Pender working the cell phone.

“Dr. Gallagher, it’s Ed Pender from the FBI, I spoke to you Wednesday? Sorry to bother you at home, but it’s urgent.…Oh, please, don’t give it another thought. We all made assumptions. You assumed Luke Sweet was dead, I assumed he was our killer. Turns out we were both wrong.…No, according to this new journal he didn’t even kill his grandparents.…I was hoping you’d be able tell us. You said there were four people unaccounted for, two orderlies, two inmates.…Right, the other inmate.…Sure, I’ll wait.”

“She’s looking it up in her computer,” he had time to whisper to Skip before Dr. Gallagher came back on the line. “That was quick,” he told her, notebook at the ready. “Okay, shoot.…Is that M for Mike or N for November? Right, got it. Do you have any other information about him? Relatives, home address.…Okay, I’ll be here.”

Pender closed the phone, glanced over at Skip. “We’ve got a name. Charles Mesker. With an M. She’s going to get back to me with the address where they shipped the so-called remains.”

He leaned over and turned the radio back up. Driving with Pender, Skip had already learned, involved a heavy dose of sing-along oldies. Pender rocked around the clock, got his thrill on Blueberry Hill, and was wakin’ up little Susie just outside Vacaville when his cell phone began chirping yet again. He reached over and turned down the radio, then out came the notebook and half-chewed pencil stub. “Okay, shoot.…Right, right.” Scribbling busily. “Got it. Thank you, Dr. Gallagher. I imagine we’ll be in touch.”

He closed the phone and turned to Skip. “Mesker’s next of kin were his parents. They still live in Santa Cruz. We should probably go check them out.”

“Tonight?”

“Yes, tonight. You know, just in case.”

“Just in case what?” asked Skip, as he pulled out of the slow lane to overtake a little old lady from Pasadena on a long straightaway.

“Just in case son Charles is holed up there. He wouldn’t be the first fugitive in history to run home to Mommy and Daddy.”

Even with the accelerator pedal floored, it took the Toyota half a mile to put Granny in the rearview mirror. “Okay, you’re on,” Skip told Pender. “But first I want to stop by my apartment to change my clothes and pick up the Buick. I’m also thinking maybe we ought to call your friend Klug and arrange for backup.”

Pender laughed and clapped Skip encouragingly on his uninjured shoulder. “What do we need backup for?” he said. “We’ve already got him outnumbered two to one.”