The Mormon Candidate - a Novel (25 page)

“How’s Zachariah connected to this?”
Ben
watched
Rex
’s reaction. “
Was he
d
isobedient?
”

“
No
,
” Rex said
.
“
T
he guy
was a good
Mormon
.
Totally
.
”

“
So why was he in trouble
?
”

“I don’t know. Really. He never told me.”

“
Do you think they killed him
?”

Rex held both hands up. “I didn’t say that!”

“But you suspect—”

“You draw your own conclusions
.
” He reached across and opened Ben’s door. “If I were you, I’d drop the whole thing.”

Ben stepped out. “What about his bike?”

“What about it?”

“You
said that
they broke into his house, his car, his office. But you didn’t mention his bike.”

“
It was sitting in his garage.
They
pushed it over, but that’s it.
” Rex engaged the reverse.
“Good
-
bye!”

“One more thing.
Did
he ever mention a suspicious Ducati?”

For the first time,
Rex’s expression
showed fear
.
He
reached over, grabbed the handle, and
slammed the door shut
. A moment later, he was gone
.

Back on his bike, Ben lingered for a moment
in the empty parking lot
. T
he rain
was
falling steadily
now, and he
looked out to
the
Chesapeake B
ay, which merged into
a
gray mist of water and rain, hiding the
opposite
shore
line
.

Chapter 33

Fran’s office at the Maryland State Police headquarters looked out over the parking lot. Ben glanced
through the window
at his
GS,
which
had
attracted a few state troopers
. O
ne of them point
ed
at the air-cooled
boxer engine
and explain
ed something to the others.

“There’s nothing here about a floppy disk,” Fran said, looking
up from her computer screen. “They would have
put it into the accident report.”

“Does it say anything about the search?”

She scanned the report again. “
It’s all basic,
routine. Here’s the list
of personal belonging
s
retrieved from the body
:
w
allet
with cash, credit cards, driver’s license, an ID card from the Department of Veterans Affairs
, k
eys
, sung
lasses
, a
tube of sunscreen
, and a mobile phone
—basic AT&T phone service with no data, e-mails, or web surfing capacity
. That’s all they found on him.”

“I’m telling you,”
Ben insisted, “
that
I
nspector
Porter
pulled something from the back of the victim’s pants
that looked like
a floppy disk.”

Her finger hit a few keys on the office phone
.

A
male
voice answered
.
“Community Liaison Section.
I
nspector
Porter speaking. How
may
I help you
, Lieutenant
DeLacourt
?”

“Can you come over to
Hate C
rimes
? I have a visitor from the press who’d like a word with you.
”

“Sure.”

When Fran hung up, Ben said, “Who said I wanted a word with that creep?”

She grinned. “
Aren’t
you
a
t
ype-A
investigative reporter
?
”

“Don’t tell him about the journal or
about
my meeting with Rex.”

“Why not?”

“He might be involved.”

“Inspector Porter? Don’t be ridiculous!”

“How well do you know him?”

Fran sat back, exhaling. “He’s new to Maryland, but he’s got an impressive law
enforcement résumé, from what I hear. Came highly recommended.”

“Humor me.”

She rubbed her cropped hair. “
Fine. But I won’t lie if he asks me, and neither should you.”

Inspector
Porter
arrived with a friendly smile. “
Mr.
Teller
, isn’t it?”

“You remember my name.”
Ben
shook
his hand.
“I’m impressed.”

“This is for you, Inspector.”
Fran handed him the iTouch. “Teller poked around the accident site after you left and found this. You can add it to the inventory.”

“Thank you,”
Porter
said.
“Did you turn it on?”

“
Yes
,” Ben said.
“
Interesting
music
selection, if you like country. Or
silly games
. The battery is drained so you’ll need to charge it first.
”

“
Appreciate your
dropping it off.” Porter turned to leave.

“Quick question,” Fran said. “Ben
is
following up on the
accident
. He was asking about an object that he saw you remove from the
body
.”

“
He’s right.
”
Porter
smil
ed
.
“
It’s in my office.
I’ll be right back.”

As soon as he left, Ben said, “Why did you tell him? Now he’ll—”

“He’s a state trooper. He won’t risk his job to steal from a corps
e
.”

“How do you know?”

“Don’t be paranoid.”

Porter reappeared
with
a brown envelope. He shook it over Fran’s desk, and a DVD
case
fell out. It was black,
with the movie
title
in red
:
The Apprenticeship of
Debbie
Cravey
.

“
Enticing
,”
Ben
said. “Have you watched it?”

“No one has watched it.” Porter pointed to the
sealed
plastic wrapping. “I added it manually to the
inventory in the
paper
file, but kept it
out of
the electronic records
.”

“Why?”

“As the ranking trooper on the scene, I had to make a decision.
The
deceased
had a wedding ring
on
and
looked like he could
be a father.
”
Porter rested his hand on the DVD.
“
Next thing, a nosey reporter would find out and put it up on the
Internet
.
The family is
suffering enough, don’t you agree?
”

“Isn’t it part of the evidence in the case?”

Porter shrugged. “What case? It was an accident.”

“It’s standard procedure,” Fran said, preempting Ben’s next question. “We’re sensitive to families’ feelings, especially when there’s no suspicion of
a
crime.”

“None
.
” Porter
slipped the DVD case
back into the envelope
. “The
traffic
investigat
or
measured the tire marks,
calculated
trajectories, and so on. It was a straightforward
situation of lost control. N
o doubt about it.”

“Really?” Ben met his eyes. “No doubt?”

“Recklessness, that’s all. Typical for bikers, wouldn’t you say?”

“In what way?”

“Taking unnecessary risks
.
”
He smiled again. “How about you, Mr.
Teller
? Do you take unnecessary risks?”

“Define ‘necessary
.
’
”

“
That’s enough,” Fran said. “
Thank you,
In
spector
.
”

“You’re welcome.” Porter turned to leave.

“
Wait
,
” Ben
said
. “O
ne more thing
.”

“Yes?”

“
How come you showed up so quickly
after the crash
?”

“My job is to liaise with the community
, t
o
be the face of the state police
with civic organizations, churches, etc
. That
includes attending public events
, making sure everything goes smoothly
.
”

“Especially with reckless bikers?”

Porter
took a deep breath, filling his chest, which made him lo
ok as if he stood at
attention.
“I take special interest in events involving my fellow veterans
.
” He tu
rned on his heels and left the office
.

“What branch?”

“Excuse me?” His departure interrupted for the second time, Porter’s veneer cracked
. “Are you talking to me?”

“
Your service,
” Ben said. “W
hat branch of the armed forces?”

After a pause, he blurted,
“
US Army
Police
.
”

Only when the sound of Porter’s steps died down the hallway did Fran burst out laughing.
“You’re such a jerk!”

“He’s lying.
”

“Unlikely.”

“
Is he a Mormon?”

Fran dropped into her chair. “I don’t know. There are hundreds of people working in this building.
A few of
them
are
Mormon
, I assume. So
me
are
Muslims, some
are
Jews, and some
are
dy
kes like me. Don’t ask, don’t tell, you know?”

“I ask and tell for a living.”

“And I fight hate crimes for a living. I also give seminars about tolerance. Okay?”

“Point taken,”
Ben
said
. “
And t
hanks for not telling him about the journal.”

“What journal?”

“
Exactly
.
Can
I
get
a
close
look at that DVD
?”

“You want to see Debbie in action?”

“Do you?”

“Ha!”

Ben laughed. “I just want to see if I can
trace it to a store.
They might remember
Porter b
uying
it.”

“
Here we go again.
”

“There’s no way Zachariah Hinckley watched porn.”

“He was a guy, wasn’t he?”

“I’m a guy and I don’t watch porn.”

“
Because you have
Keera,
who could beat you up if she wanted—which might not be a bad idea, actually.”