Vigilante

CHAPTER 42

A quick survey of the Airstream trailer revealed a potential treasure trove of evidence. A pair of rubber boots were in the back of the small but cluttered closet along with some wadded-up camouflage clothing. As soon as I had done a quick no-touch search, I backed out of the trailer with the two uniformed sheriffs, secured the site, then got on the phone to the crime scene techs and got them rolling.

While I waited for CSI to arrive, I talked with the sheriffs about trying to track Batiste up into the hills by utilizing their mountain rescue team and a fire department chopper. They said they’d get on it. As soon as the techies arrived I turned the crime scene over to them and took off for Huntington Hospital.

As I drove, I began to fit a few more pieces of the puzzle together. The original stove from the burned-out Airstream had been removed and replaced with a small camp stove, a less elaborate cooking device. I wondered if that was Lee Bob’s purchase. It was the kind of unit you could pick up in any outdoor supply store. The stove had only one butane burner and no oven and would barely heat a pot of coffee or can of beans. It would never accommodate a complicated gumbo recipe. Maybe Lee Bob had grown tired of eating warmed-over supermarket pork and beans. Maybe that was why he brought the groceries to Lita’s the night he planned to kill her. Admittedly strange behavior, but my gut told me that might have been what had happened.

Alexa and Jeb were in the waiting room when I arrived at Huntington Hospital. Hitch was already in surgery, so we went down to the cafeteria to get some coffee. On the way they explained to me that the admitting docs in ER had told them the wound was through the meaty part of Hitch’s thigh and, barring infection, wouldn’t cause any lasting damage.

“This whole deal is pretty much blown,” Alexa said as we returned to the surgery wing and settled on the waiting room couch with cups of cafeteria coffee. “We still don’t have any direct evidence against Nash, and if Batiste gets away, all we’ve got is just an interesting theory.”

“There’s gonna be plenty of direct evidence in that Airstream,” I told her. “There’s a pair of rubber boots in the closet that look like Baffins, and I’m betting there will be a triangular scar on the left sole which will match our crime scene print. He also left a box of nine-millimeter Federals on the dresser. If we can match up the lead content in that box to the slugs in Lita’s floor, that could put Lee Bob in her kitchen with the murder weapon. It’s more than enough to bust him. Like you said, it doesn’t directly tie Nash to her murder, but it’s a start. All we have to do is get our hands on Batiste and flip him.”

She heaved a deep sigh. “If we don’t catch Batiste, it’s just a semi-weak circumstantial case.”

“The good news is this probably takes Stephanie Madrid off the hook,” Jeb said.

An hour later my partner was out of surgery. At Hitch’s insistence they’d only used a local anesthetic to clean and close the wound, and when they wheeled him back he was still awake. I went in to see him, along with Jeb and Alexa. They left after twenty minutes when it was obvious Hitch was going to be okay.

Once they’d gone, Hitch grinned up at me.

“What was all that Audie Murphy BS?” he asked. “Throwing yourself on top of me. Next time you pull shit like that, I’m gonna need a kiss first.”

We reached out and bumped fists.

The docs wanted to keep him overnight as a precaution against infection, so after another hour I headed home. It was around four when I left the hospital. I called Alexa as I drove. She was still at the PAB in a meeting with Clarence Moneymaker and the DA, bringing them up-to-date. They were discontinuing the investigation against Stephanie Madrid. Alexa told me she wouldn’t make it home for a few more hours because she had to work on the press release.

I didn’t have much hope that Batiste would be apprehended, because a swamp rat like Lee Bob could go to ground indefinitely in the vast 650,000-acre Angeles National Forest.

I was pretty sure an egomaniac like Nash wouldn’t leave this hanging and would feel compelled to prove his superiority. I was also pretty sure he’d make the next move. When he did, I resolved to be ready.

The problem was, I never expected what he did next.