“I’m saying I know for a fact you’d already talked to March Baylor. You didn’t need me. You’d already heard the story.”
“So it was okay to lie?”
Petroni stared at Bell, said, “Goddamn you, Kendall.”
Kendall pushed his chair back. He got slowly to his feet and walked to the empty end of the table as if contemplating something and unaffected by Petroni’s emotion.
“Let’s get something clear,” Kendall said, “because we’re straying from it. You’re not a suspect in a murder investigation. You’re not even, what is that horseshit phrase the Feds use, ‘a person of interest.’ In fact, we could shorten this interview if you’d just tell us why you lied to me. I know there’s a good reason. I’m going to find out what it is.”
Petroni lifted a hand from the table, glanced at Marquez, and shook his head. Kendall walked back to his chair.
“Was it because of Sophie?”
Petroni hesitated a long time before nodding.
“I’m sorry, warden, we need a verbal response.”
“Yes, it was.”
“You wanted to keep her out of it?”
“I know how you operate.”
“Is that why you wanted to minimize her involvement?”
“I knew you were after me.”
“You didn’t want me questioning her about Jed Vandemere because you think it’s personal between you and me?”
Petroni didn’t answer and Kendall didn’t press him, saying instead, “What I’m going to ask next may make you uncomfortable.”
He paused. “Did Vandemere take an interest in your girlfriend?”
Petroni was slow to answer. He stared hard at Kendall, said, “Not one she wanted. He came on to her but she didn’t have any interest.”
“Because she was already going out with you?”
“Because she wasn’t interested.”
“Did he harass her?”
“In a way.”
“Threaten her?”
“No.”
“Stalk her?”
“No.”
“Did she ask you to do something about him?”
“She asked me to talk to him.”
“Did you?”
“I did.”
“What did you say to him?”
“I told him she was frightened by the way he wouldn’t leave her alone.”
“Did you warn him not to go near her?”
“Not really.”
“Does that mean you didn’t warn him, or that you did?”
“It means what I just told you. I asked him to leave her alone.”
“Not show up where she works?”
“Yes.”
“What did you tell him would happen if he showed up there?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Try.”
Petroni said nothing.
“Did Sophie stay with you last night?”
“No.”
“Do you know where we could find her this morning?”
“She’ll be at work later.”
“Do you know where she stayed last night?”
“No.”
“All right, let me ask something else, and please understand I have to ask this, so don’t be offended. We’ve talked to people who think the attraction between her and Jed Vandemere was mutual. Is it possible she told you one thing and felt another?”
“You don’t know her, Kendall. You think you do, but you don’t.” Marquez, watching Petroni’s face as he said that, no longer doubted that Petroni loved her. “She made the mistake of telling the Vandemere kid that she worked at the Creekview Saloon in Placerville. After that he wouldn’t leave her alone. She couldn’t kick him out, and she didn’t want to lose her job by making it an issue with the manager. She and her manager have had problems anyway. She asked me to talk to him in early August, so I did, but there was nothing too personal about it and the conversation was friendly. I never threatened him.” He frowned. “Why would I?”
“Because he was in love with your girlfriend.”
“You don’t know that.”
“No, we’re not going to find it in your log, are we?”
It was the first sarcastic comment Kendall had made, and Marquez knew Kendall wished he could pull it back.
“You know,” Petroni said, “I fell in love with a younger woman and my wife is divorcing me. I’ve made a mess of my personal life, but you don’t have the right, you’ve got the mouth, but you don’t have the right to say what you’re saying.”
Kendall raised a palm to stop Petroni’s retort. “How did Vandemere answer when you told him to back off Sophie?”
Petroni seemed to turn inward. When he spoke his voice was leaden.
“He waited for her after work the next night. He was standing near her truck.”
“When was that?”
“She’ll know the date.”
“How did he respond to you?”
“Said it was none of my business.”
“Did you tell him she was your girlfriend?”
“He already knew.”
“How did he know?”
“I don’t know and I never saw him again.”
Questioning went on another hour. Kendall made a show of thanking him for coming in, and then it was over. Petroni walked out without a glance at anyone. Marquez was the last out. He watched Charlotte back out of her slot and drive away, then stood talking to Bell.
“How much of this did you know about?” Bell asked.
“I knew about the problems with his marriage, and Kendall came to Sacramento looking for a way to get Bill to talk to him about Vandemere.”
“The day he came to see you?” Bell asked. “He didn’t say a word to me about it.”
“He’s doing it his way.”
“I’m sure the union will file a complaint on Petroni’s behalf and provide a defense, but I’m suspending him while this is investigated.
There’s nothing that can excuse what he’s done, and it’s very, very disturbing to me. He has intentionally obstructed a murder investigation.”
Marquez could easily picture one idea any homicide detective would tease out after this interview-a handsome grad student comes after Petroni’s new young girlfriend, and Petroni tells him to back off. The grad student tells Petroni he’ll go out with her if he wants, and not only that, she wants him too. The warden becomes enraged. Already on edge because of his divorce, he loses it and goes hunting. He knows about Vandemere’s problem with the bear hunters so he uses a bear rifle. Marquez looked at Bell’s sober face. It wasn’t that much of a leap.
“Is he involved yet in your operation?” Bell asked.
“No.”
Bell got in his car, lowered the window, and added, “I don’t want your team to have any contact whatsoever with him until this is resolved.”
Marquez nodded, then watched him drive away.
14
After Bell left, Marquez drove to the team’s rented office in town, walked from there a quarter mile to the Sierra Guides office, sandwiched between brick buildings along an alley. Through dusty windows he saw two desks and a sitting arrangement, couch and chairs grouped around a bearskin rug, a coffee table, with hunting magazines resting on top. Mounted on the walls were the heads of a rhino, a water buffalo, a lion, and a grizzly. He read the office hours in white script on the glass door. Closed Friday-Monday. “Gone Hunting,” a sign announced.
Most California hunting guide businesses were small, the enterprises of hunters trying to marry what they loved doing with making a living, which was hard to do. Bear hunting was tied to a lottery system, and a hunter couldn’t know whether he’d win a tag in a given year or not, so a guide who specialized in bear couldn’t count on repeat business. Occasionally, guides turned out to be fronts for poachers, not often, but it did happen. With Nyland working here it made sense to learn everything they could about the ownership.
Roberts had found new information on the listed business owner, a Joe Durham-gossip she’d gotten after calling one of the numbers on Durham’s website and asking for a reference. According to a former client, Durham’s main income was a coalition of timber industry companies seeking better logging access in the Sierra Nevada. Durham lobbied for them. He was very knowledgeable about forest management and U.S. government policies and, from what she’d gathered, a switch-hitter on environmental issues. It just depended on who held the checkbook. The former client knew Durham from working with him at the state capitol, and that relationship evolved into a weekend boar hunt along the central coastal mountains. Marquez called Roberts as he walked away from the alley. They picked up the earlier conversation, Roberts relating what she’d learned from Durham’s former client.