“So it wasn’t just for her to get off with probation, then?” I said. “It was political, too.”
She spread her hands out in front of her. “Isn’t everything?”
I shook my head, angry. “I guess.”
“Noah, still. She put herself in the situation,” Liz said, leaning across the table. “You carry that much heroin, you’re asking for trouble. She wasn’t innocent.”
I considered telling her about my conversation with Ken Crier, then thought better of it. I knew the cop in Liz would be skeptical that Kate would’ve taken the blame for her husband.
“She didn’t deserve to die, though,” I said.
“No,” Liz agreed. “She didn’t.” She reached into the breast pocket of her blouse, produced a small strip of paper, and slid it across the table to me.
“What’s this?” The strip was wrinkled and torn at the corners. I unfolded it. CHARLOTTE T. was written on it.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. Thought maybe you could figure it out. It was in the car with Kate’s body, wadded up in the backseat. Scratch paper, most likely. Thought it was just trash at first.” She paused. “Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t.”
I stared at it and tried to decide if it was Kate’s handwriting. I had no way of knowing.
Liz leaned across the table again. “The only way her murder is going to be solved is if you keep poking around. Everyone here and at DEA wants it quiet. They’re content to blame it on Costilla.”
I looked at her. “You don’t think he did it then?”
“I didn’t say that. I’m just saying, if someone else did do it, it won’t be anyone around here that figures it out. I still think Costilla probably did it. It makes sense, no matter what he told you.”
“I don’t think so, Liz.”
She stood and walked toward the door. “Then prove it.”
41
I found the Blazer out front, courtesy of Liz having it towed. I headed straight for the hospital to see Carter.
It surprised me that Liz had shared as much with me as she had. She took her work seriously and, most of the time, didn’t take me too seriously. Telling me about the politics involved and handing me that scrap of paper weren’t things that she normally did. It felt like we’d cleared a small hurdle in our relationship.
I took my time moving up the highway toward UCSD, staring aimlessly at the lights on Fiesta Island and Mission Bay as I moved by. I wanted nothing more than to take the exit at Grand, head straight west toward the water, grab my board, and hide from all of the crap that had entered my life by riding the water until my body went numb.
But I knew that I couldn’t, so I passed the exit at Grand and tried not to think about it.
Carter’s eyes widened when I walked into his room.
“Did you fall out of a building?” he asked.
“Sort of,” I said, pulling what I’d started thinking of as my own personal chair next to the bed.
“What the hell happened?”
I sat down in the chair and told him about my visit with Costilla.
“You said you wouldn’t do that without me,” he said when I finished.
“I forgot,” I said. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. Surgery was fine. I’m ready to go.” He looked at me. “Jesus, I look better than you.”
I rubbed my bruised cheek. “Thanks.”
“Listen to me next time.”
“When are you out of here?”
He dropped his head back on the pillow and heaved a pissed off, exasperated sigh. “Two days is what the doc said. I’m gonna push him on it, though.”
“Don’t,” I said. “They know better than you do when you’re ready to go home.” I pulled the paper Liz had given me out of my pocket. “Here’s something to keep you occupied.” I handed it to him.
He let it rest in his palm. “I get shot and this is what you bring me?”
“Shut up. Liz gave it to me.”
He raised an eyebrow, surprised. “The Ice Queen gave you something other than the finger?”
“We made peace.”
He looked back at the paper. “‘Charlotte.’ The city?”
“What about the T?”
“I don’t know. Where’d Liz get it?”
“The car they found Kate in.”
“The ‘T’ could be an initial,” he said, running his finger over the paper, trying to smooth it out.
“A last name,” I said. “That’s my guess.”
“What does Liz think it is?”
I shook my head. “She’s not sure. That’s why she gave it to me.”
He handed it back. “That doesn’t sound like her.”
I told him what she’d said about finding Kate’s killer.
“Still,” Carter said. “Doesn’t sound like Liz.”
“I think the guilt is working her over pretty good.”
“I suppose,” he said. “But a crappy piece of paper that may have been just trash isn’t much.”
“No,” I agreed. “It’s not. But at least it’s something.”
The door to the room opened, and an older nurse with a gray afro stuck her head in. “Visiting hours end in five minutes, gentlemen.”
I waved at her, and Carter made a face.
She smiled and shut the door.
I stood up. “I’m gonna head out. I’ll come see you in the morning.”
“Okay. Don’t knock yourself out over this, Noah,” he said, a note of caution in his voice.
“What? The paper?”
“That and everything else. It’s not worth getting the shit kicked out of you. Again.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t,” he said, tugging at the blankets that barely covered his long frame. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have gone to see Costilla.”
I turned toward the door.
“Even if you figure this out,” Carter continued, “what’s gonna happen? Ken and Marilyn are going to give you a fat check? I know you could care less about that. Kate’s not gonna be able to say thank you. No matter what you find out.” He paused. “It won’t bring her back.”
I waved at him and left.
42
Carter’s words stung me.
I didn’t think I was doing this to make amends for Kate, but maybe I was fooling myself. The police and the government didn’t want it solved. In all likelihood, even if Kate’s murder was solved, it was going to be done quietly. They would prefer that Costilla did it because it gave them one more thing to hang on him. I still wasn’t convinced, and I kept turning everything over in my mind until I pulled up to Emily’s.
I wasn’t quite sure why I’d gone to her place. I tried telling myself that it was because I wanted to ask her more about her sister and Randall and also to see if she knew anything about the piece of paper Liz had given me. But, somewhere, in the recesses of my brain, I knew it was because I needed to settle whatever had happened between us.
I parked my car in front of her garage and walked up the stairs. I was getting used to the stiffness and soreness that permeated my body. I tried to pretend it was from a really difficult workout. And if that workout had included being used as a heavy bag, maybe my body would’ve bought it.
I pressed the illuminated button next to her door. After a moment, I heard her muffled voice, then footsteps. The door opened, and she stuck her head out. “Noah.”
“Hey.”
She opened the door enough for her to step into the opening. “I didn’t know you were coming over.”
“I didn’t either. I was just at the hospital and thought I’d come by.”
She tried to smile, but it came off as more nervous. Her hair was tousled and her cheeks flushed. She blinked several times. “Oh, um, how’s Carter?”
I became keenly aware that she was not inviting me in. “He’s okay. Better anyway.”
She almost glanced over her shoulder, then caught herself, the look on her face telling me what I had already guessed.
“Bad timing,” I said.
“Uh, yeah,” she said, laughing quickly. “You could say that.” She paused. “I’m sorry.”
I held up my hand. “Nothing to be sorry about. I should’ve called.”