Defiled: The Sequel to Nailed Featuring John Tall Wolf (A Ron Ketchum Mystery Book 2) (22 page)

To the cops, that was.

But if Keely were to go back to Locks & Bangs, say, for a manicure, why she might get into a conversation with Veronika. A smart lawyer might claim that Keely was acting as an agent of the police and was disqualified from speaking with Ms. Novak. Only Keely’s agreement to help Ron was verbal, and the Goldstrike PD had yet to pay her a penny.

“Maybe I should just get my nails done and go back to L.A.,” Keely said. “Make things less obvious that way.”

“Leaving me a coded message to decipher before you do,” Ron suggested.

“Sure. Seal it with a lipstick kiss.”

They both laughed.

“How about we see if Ms. Novak can be persuaded to talk first?” Ron said.

“Both of us?”

“You’d be the good cop,” Ron said.

Before they could take the discussion any further, there was a knock at the door, Sergeant Stanley’s distinctive knock. Ron said, “Come in, Sarge.”

He did, and caught sight of Keely.

“I can come back later if you’re busy, sir.”

“Unless it’s a personal matter, Caz, you can speak in front of Retired Detective Powell.”

The sergeant regarded the former L.A. copper.

She told him, “Really, it’s okay. Ron asked me if I’d like to be the new chief of police.”

Sergeant Stanley swiveled his head to look at Ron. He was busy rolling his eyes again.

“It’s true,” Keely said.

With the sergeant’s eyes on him, Ron admitted, “It
was
true, before I learned of the retired detective’s complete lack of discretion.”

“You want me to
really
start talking?” Keely asked.

“No.”

“I’ll come back later,” Sergeant Stanley said.

Ron held up a hand. “No, don’t. It won’t get any better. What’s going on, Caz?”

The sergeant told him he’d found out Helios Sideris had been staying at the Renaissance but hadn’t been seen for the past two days. Sideris had also rented a safe-deposit box at the Sierra National Bank. Bank personnel had agreed to inform the PD if Sideris stopped into the bank again. Sideris had also asked Ms. Marjorie Fitzroy, the concierge at the Renaissance, to help him find an Indian.

“Native American is the preferred appellation.”

The three people in Ron’s office saw that John Tall Wolf was standing in the doorway.

“Though Indian still works for me,” he said.

Tall Wolf had just come from a meeting with Marlene Flower Moon in the living room of Clay Steadman’s house. The special agent was introduced to the mayor, who asked him, “Light sensitivity?”

Meaning the reason he wore sunglasses indoors.

“Yes, sir.”

Marlene told Clay the story of John being left on a scaffold as an infant.

His adoptive parents rescuing him.

Clay sighed and said, “Good for them, good for you, too. I only wish I had the time.”

“Time for what?” Tall Wolf asked.

“To film all the interesting stories I’ve ever heard. If you’ll excuse me, I have to be going.”

The mayor shook the special agent’s hand and left.

Tall Wolf looked at Marlene and asked, “Do I want to know where he’s going?”

“You probably should know.”

“Because?”

Marlene said, “Because I’ll soon be taking a leave of absence from my job.”

Tall Wolf wasn’t sure he’d heard right. It was as if Coyote had just told him she had become a vegan. What could possibly … Then it came to him.

“You conned that old movie star, didn’t you? You’re going to take him for a big chunk of money because I told you he’s sick.”

Tall Wolf’s tone was not approving.

Marlene didn’t care. Contrary to what Tall Wolf often seemed to think, she didn’t work for him. “What I’ll be doing,” she said, “is co-producing Clay’s next two movies.”

“Including the one based on Chief Ketchum’s father?”

“Yes.”

“What do you know about being a white cop?”

“Not a hell of a lot.” Walt Ketchum had just stepped into the room. He shook Tall Wolf’s hand. “But I’ll teach her. By the way, thanks for helping me out the other day. I was a little hazy there for a while.”

“You’re welcome,” Tall Wolf said.

Walt excused himself, saying he’d let Marlene and Tall Wolf get back to their business. He’d just wanted to say thanks. When he left, though, he gave Marlene a look and had a sly smirk on his face.

Tall Wolf wondered if Marlene had had the two geezers one at a time or both together.

Coyote was certainly capable of —

Telling him, “Yes, I’ll be paid for my efforts.”

“Are you getting a cut of the gross?” he asked. “Is that where the mayor is going, to work out the details of your deal.”

“He’s going to talk to people I’ll soon be meeting,” she told him. “What concerns you is that I’ll be leaving someone I trust in my place at the BIA.”

Of course, she would, he thought. Coyote didn’t miss a trick.

“Is there anything else?” Tall Wolf asked.

“Yes, I’ve had another talk with Herbert Wilkins. He told me he was helpful to you, but only up to a point. I persuaded him to be wholehearted in his assistance.”

“Did you ask Wilkins what kind of help I want?”

Coyote gave him a smile and a shake of her head.

Better that she didn’t know what Tall Wolf was up to, in case it went wrong.

Then the blame would be his to shoulder.

And if there was more than enough trouble for one person to bear …

Maybe she’d be a studio head by then, Tall Wolf thought.

Just stay in Hollywood, collect pelts and make billions.

“Did Sideris tell Ms. Fitzroy why he wanted an Indian?” Ron asked Sergeant Stanley.

“No, sir.”

“Did she find him one?” John Tall Wolf asked.

“She gave him the name of the local Washoe council leader.”

“Herbert Wilkins,” Tall Wolf said.

Keely grinned. “The special agent has been out detecting.”

Ron asked Tall Wolf, “What’s your interest in Mr. Wilkins?”

The chief gestured the fed to a chair so he’d know he was still welcome as a member of the team. Tall Wolf said, “I believe in keeping busy. This morning I was out looking for gold. Sergeant Stanley kindly arranged for me to borrow a Winchester from one of your officers.” The special agent turned to look at the sergeant. “I returned it cleaned and oiled, as promised, though I didn’t need to fire a shot.”

The sergeant nodded in appreciation.

Tall Wolf said, “Would you mind excusing us, Sergeant?” Looking at Ron, he added, “If that’s all right with you, Chief.”

Ron said, “I’ll tell you if there’s anything you need to know, Caz. Thanks for the information about Sideris. That was good work.”

The sergeant left, not entirely happy at being dismissed, and closed the door behind him.

“You want me to go, too?” Keely asked.

Tall Wolf shook his head.

“Good, because that question was purely rhetorical.”

“Can we get back to business?” Ron asked.

Tall Wolf leaned forward. He didn’t whisper, but he kept his voice down.

“Sergeant Stanley asked me this morning if I thought someone might put something valuable in a safe-deposit box. He wasn’t being naive, I think. He was asking if someone might really be that dumb. That’s how I took it, anyway.”

“You mean Sideris?” Ron asked.

“The sergeant didn’t mention his name at the time, but I believe I heard him mention that name before I stepped into your office.”

“
Overheard
it,” Keely said.

“I stopped to tie my shoe,” Tall Wolf said with a straight face.

Keely looked at Ron. “He lies well, doesn’t he?”

The chief said, “Can we please get to the point?”

“Okay,” Tall Wolf replied. “Remember how I said the local Native Americans know where gold can be found around here?”

The two former L.A. cops nodded.

“Well, let’s say some of that precious metal has started to make its way through the local underground economy.”

Keely saw where he was going. “You’re saying Sideris wound up getting his hands on some?”

Ron took the idea another step. “If Sideris killed Hale Tibbot … he got paid in gold?”

Tall Wolf said, “Valuable stuff. Better than sixteen hundred dollars an ounce.”

“But gold, especially unrefined ore, would be conspicuous, too. A killer who got paid that way would have to figure out what to do with it. How to cash in on it,” Ron suggested.

Keely said, “Brings us right back to Helios Sideris renting a safe-deposit box.”

Tall Wolf nodded. “But he might have had more than changing gold to greenbacks on his mind. Like how could he up his take from the guy who hired him or find someone else who might help him become a … a claim-jumper, I’d guess you’d say.”

“And who might that be?” Ron asked.

“I’ve talked with Herbert Wilkins, the local Washoe council leader. He told me he dodged talking to a white man with yellow hair.”

“Sideris,” Ron said.

“But if Wilkins dodged him, what then?” Keely asked. “Sideris went after the guy who hired him? Looking for a bigger payday. Maybe a partnership deal?”

They didn’t have an answer to that.

Tall Wolf took things in another direction. “As I mentioned before, I was wondering if maybe Hale Tibbot had bought some land around here hoping to build a resort on it. And instead of someone coming to him with a proposition, maybe, without knowing it, he’d simply bought himself a gold mine, too. Imagine some heavy equipment operator digging the foundation for a building and noticing he’d turned up something all bright and shiny. He might say, ‘Well would you look at that, boys? I’ve hit gold.’”

“Jesus,” Ron said. “That’d be —”

“Enough to get all sorts of people upset.” Tall Wolf said. “From the little reading I’ve done so far, large scale gold excavation is an industrial process incompatible with a tourist economy.”

“The real gold mine would give the boot to the recreational one,” Keely said.

“But how would Sideris have figured all this out?” Ron wanted to know. He told Tall Wolf, “I don’t think he figured things out the way you did.”

Keely said, “The place to start, to see how much of this we’ve got right, is the safe-deposit box Sideris rented.”

“There’s one more thing to consider,” Tall Wolf said. “As I said, with Sergeant Stanley’s help, I went looking for gold myself this morning. Didn’t find any, but I did find this.”

He took out the stone he’d found and put it on the chief’s desk.

“Remind you of anything?” Tall Wolf asked.

“An arrowhead,” Keely said.

“The red arrows, the ones painted with Tibbot’s blood,” Ron responded.

Tall Wolf nodded and picked up his stone. “This little stone got me thinking about the others. You think maybe Tibbot’s killer left them as helpful pointers?”

“Pointing us in the direction of the guy who hired him,” Ron said.

Keely said, “Yeah, that’d be quite the bargaining tool. ‘I’m in for half the gold or you’re in for half the murder.’”

Just outside of police headquarters, John Tall Wolf had a question for Ron Ketchum.

“Can you give me a description of the timer and detonator you found on that bomb out on the lake?”

The chief didn’t think he’d ever forget the image of that damn thing counting down what he’d thought would be the last seconds of his life. He saw Tall Wolf take a small audio recorder out of his brief case. The guy was confident he’d get an answer.

That was okay. The special agent had proved to be something of an original thinker. He had Ron accepting the idea there might be a whole new reason for Tibbot getting killed. One that still could fit with an ecological zealot going off the deep end.

Some greedy bastards are going to ruin all this beauty? They think they’re going to dig gold out of the mountain? Well, I’ll spoil things for everybody. Contaminate the whole area.

Only how did that fit with the idea that the bomb might have been a hoax?

He didn’t know, but he’d play along with Tall Wolf for the moment.

The chief closed his eyes and told the special agent the size, shape and features of the timer-detonator. He finished by saying, “The numerals on the timer were green. I thought when they got to zero it would turn red and then adios, amigo.”

Ron opened his eyes and asked Tall Wolf, “Why’d you want to know that?”

“I put myself in your place, wondered what I might have done. Thought it might be a good idea to know what a pro would recommend. You know, just in case there’s a repeat performance. Nice thing about being a fed, I can reach out to people with all sorts of specialties.”

“A repeat performance?” Ron said. “Jesus.”

The chief didn’t know if he could go through that again.

“One more thing,” Tall Wolf said. “You towed in the boat that held the bomb, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So somebody else could have towed it out onto the lake,” Tall Wolf said.

“That was my thought,” Ron told him.

“Yeah, but one guy with two boats would be more obvious than —”

“Two guys, each with his own boat.”

“Just another thought to consider,” Tall Wolf said. “Feel free to share it with Retired Detective Powell.”

Tall Wolf lifted his chin and Ron saw Keely coming their way.

She’d had to make a porcelain detour on the way out of the building.

“What are you going to do now?” Ron asked.

“Have breakfast and then follow up on a suggestion Herbert Wilkins offered me. He said I should see who was suing Hale Tibbot.”

Ron Ketchum was four weeks out from his last haircut, so he had some credibility when he walked into Locks & Bangs and asked if Veronika Novak had an opening. The shop’s owner, Sarita Levy, was thrilled at the prospect of having the chief of police become a regular customer. She said she thought Veronika was just finishing up adding color to a client’s hair.

“I don’t want to intrude,” Ron said.

Sarita smiled at him. “The color has to sit for thirty minutes.”

“Oh,” Ron said.

“You didn’t know, huh?”

“Learn a new thing every day.”

The shop owner said, “May I?”

The chief didn’t know what was being asked of him but he took the risk. “Okay.”

Sarita ran her fingers through the hair on one side of his head and then the other. Made him tingle. He did his best not to show it.

“You don’t need any color yet. But when you do, we’ll be happy to touch you up.”

“Thanks,” Ron said, the thought of going gray ending all his tingling.

He had a seat while Sarita went to speak with Veronika. The two women approached him a moment later and he got to his feet. Veronika gave him a critical appraisal, as if she was looking for something more than a cowlick.

She nodded and said, “Yes, I think I have the time.”

The shop owner gave Ron’s hand a squeeze and told him, “Your cut is on me in gratitude for your bravery on Lake Adeline.”

Veronika didn’t look all that grateful, Ron thought. He told Sarita, “Thank you, but department policy doesn’t allow me to accept gratuities. If you like, I can pay you and you can donate the money to your favorite charity.”

That earned him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll do just that. Please feel free to tip Veronika.”

“I will.”

Veronika shampooed Ron’s hair, toweled it and brought him to her chair. She looked him over, front and back. She asked, “Would you like to keep your part where you had it?”

The chief fleetingly thought she was messing with him.

Could she know why he was there?

“What do you think?” he asked.

“I think you might like to try the other side. It might suit the shape of your face better.”

“Let’s try it then.”

She got to work, combing and trimming, measuring and snipping. Ron was not about to question her while she was standing behind him with a pair of pointed scissors in her hand. He watched the reflection of a new hairstyle take shape in the mirror in front of him. A whole new look really. He liked it. Veronika was meticulous in her work, making sure every detail was perfect.

She finished him up with her hair dryer and her brush.

Keely had told Ron she wanted him to have the experience of Veronika cutting his hair. That way he could compare what she’d done for him to what she’d done to the late Hale Tibbot. The experience wouldn’t be anything he could take into court, but he’d know whether he thought she was their witness.

Just in case the photo of Veronika in her period costume at her work station wasn’t enough for him. After the cut, Ron was positive the stylist had given Tibbot his postmortem styling.

She held up a mirror so Ron could see the back of his head.

“Good?” she said.

“Perfect.” The chief got to his feet. He handed her a twenty-dollar tip and his business card. “I’ll need to talk with you when you finish your workday. There will be an officer waiting for you. He’ll give you a ride to headquarters.”

The color drained from Veronika’s face.

“Are you arresting me?”

“No, I’m making sure no one hurts you.”

She gave a sob and collapsed against Ron, throwing her arms around his neck.

Sarita Levy hurried over.

Seeing things were serious, she said, “Don’t worry, honey, whatever it is. I’ll take the rest of your shift.” Talking to Ron she asked, “Is she going to need a lawyer?”

Ron told her, “Maybe just a friend.”

He handed Sarita the money for his haircut and led Veronika out.

John Tall Wolf was having a late breakfast at the Head in the Clouds Diner. Before he went to examine the civil suit filings against Hale Tibbot, he checked the online edition of the
Goldstrike Prospector
to see what was new in town. He was reading a story on the firebombing of the Jade Emperor construction site when Officer Cuyler Doran stopped by the special agent’s table and extended a hand. Tall Wolf shook it.

“You did a fine job cleaning my Winchester,” Doran said.

“Just rebuffed the shine you had on it,” Tall Wolf said, closing his laptop. “Buy you a cup of coffee or breakfast if you’re hungry?”

“Thanks.” Doran took a seat. “I don’t mind a bite when I get off work.”

Tall Wolf had just finished his bowl of rolled oats with cinnamon and was working on his fruit plate. Doran ordered ham and eggs. Coffee black.

“You find what you were looking for this morning?” Doran asked.

“Not yet, but I keep getting new ideas.”

Doran smiled and shook his head. “That’s why I never want to be a detective. I don’t like mysteries. I like to work with what’s in front of me.”

“You hunt, don’t you?” Tall Wolf asked.

“Yeah, but that’s game we’re talking about. I
hope
I’m smarter than something that walks on all fours.”

Tall Wolf chuckled. “Most of the people detectives chase aren’t much more intelligent. Occasionally, though …”

The special agent paused to examine a new thought.

He’d been about to say even bright people could outsmart themselves.

Then they had to go back and start over.

Doran’s breakfast came and he waited patiently for his dining companion to return to the here-and-now.

When Tall Wolf rejoined him, Doran said, “You see that, my mind doesn’t work like yours. I know perspiration way better than inspiration.”

“Muscle has its place,” Tall Wolf said. “You know anything about the firebombing at the Jade Emperor?”

The Goldstrike copper looked around. Nobody appeared to be listening in on their conversation but he lowered his voice. “That car that blew up right before the hotel got hit?”

“It was expensive, wasn’t it? Probably something fast and powerful. Burned lots of gas.”

Doran said, “You hear that from the sarge?”

Tall Wolf shook his head. “It just fits with what I was thinking.”

Doran said, “Damn, I
might
like it if my brain clicked that fast. The car was a new Dodge Viper with something like seven hundred horsepower and goes for more than a hundred grand.”

“So it was stolen,” Tall Wolf said.

Doran looked at him and said, “Right. What else you got in your crystal ball?”

“I’m tempted to say it came from Las Vegas, but maybe it was closer. Reno?”

“Not bad,” Doran said. “You almost hit the daily double. The car was sent special order from a Dodge dealer in Vegas to one in Carson City, right down the road from Reno. A man ordered it for himself. His wife found out and said no way. The guy paid the return shipping charges so nobody’s nose got too bent out of place at first, but while the car was waiting to be trucked back to Sin City, it was stolen off the lot.”

“You know the name of the man who ordered the car?” Tall Wolf asked.

Doran nodded. “Probably wouldn’t have remembered except it was that guy who found the bomb out on Lake Adeline: Roger Sutherland.”

Tall Wolf made sure he kept a straight face. “When did that information come in?”

“Right when my shift was being dismissed. Little while ago.”

So Ron Ketchum hadn’t known while Tall Wolf was talking with him.

Doran finished his ham and eggs while the special agent was still working on his fruit. The patrol officer offered his thanks for the meal and said he had to get home to bed. The waitress came by and gave Tall Wolf the check but said there was no hurry.

Tall Wolf used the license to idle to sort out his standing with the Goldstrike PD. Doran had said the sarge knew about Roger Sutherland and the Viper that got blown up. It was likely the sergeant had been the first cop in town to know.

The special agent hadn’t meant to put Sergeant Stanley’s nose out of joint by asking him to step out of the chief’s office while he discussed his ideas with Ron Ketchum and Keely Powell. But he could have handled it better.

He knew there would be fences to mend if he wanted to be kept in the PD’s loop. Otherwise, the good sergeant might tell the chief what he needed to know in a nick-of-time fashion, leaving no time to inform condescending feds.

Cooperation between law enforcement agencies was a wonderful idea, but it wasn’t always the easiest thing to manage. Fortunately —

His phone rang and another long arm of the law was heard from.

“Special Agent Tall Wolf? The is Special Agent Benjamin.”

John was tempted to ask if he might call her Abra, but he decided he’d better not irritate anyone else.

“Yes?”

“We should talk.”

“Just the two of us?”

“For the moment. Where can we meet?”

Tall Wolf decided she could join him in his paper chase.

He told her, “The Alta County Courthouse.”

Ron sat with Veronika Novak at a café table outside the Muni Complex’s restaurant. Several major fast food chains had offered small fortunes for the right to establish a franchise in the town’s center of government. Mayor Steadman had turned all of them down. He brought in a young chef whose family had owned a restaurant in Santa Barbara for eighty years. She’d been packing the place since day one.

The chief figured a chat at a café table with a bite to eat and a view of the lake would work better than a Q&A in an interview room or even a conversation in his office. Only problem was, Veronika wasn’t hungry and she started to shiver as soon as they sat down, even though the sun was shining and the temperature held steady at seventy degrees. The chief had Sergeant Stanley bring a female officer’s uniform jacket from the building. Total pro that he was, Caz draped it over Veronika’s shoulders, let her wrap herself in it.

There, they were on the same team.

“You can start whenever you’re ready,” Ron told her.

The young woman didn’t pretend she had no idea of what he meant.