“Then shall we get started?” Guy turned on his tape recorder.
The old man looked askance at it, then shrugged. “Okay, first thing is about that couple who used to visit the canyon with their little girl. Squatters in an abandoned cabin on the ridge. Sometimes I’d see their old bus parked under the pine trees when I passed the canyon on my way to town. But a lot of times they were there without the bus.”
“Meaning they knew about the deer track past the pond and used it.”
“I’d say they used it most every day. Their little girl was always playing with the canyon kids in that meadow by the highway.”
“So they could’ve had something to do with the murders, come and gone unobserved.”
“Except on that night they drove straight through the gate.”
“You saw that?”
Cordova nodded. “I was fixing my fence at the far north end of my property. Damn fishermen were always pulling it down till I decided to give them access at the turnout. This was about an hour before dark. Bus was still there when I went back to the house.”
Interesting that he hadn’t reported their presence. “What d’you recall about the family?”
“They were kinda raggedy. Man was maybe in his midthirties, the woman younger. Little girl around five or six. Parents were standoffish, but the little girl was friendly. She’d see me working around my property and wave.”
“Can you describe the parents?”
“Woman had beautiful red hair down to her ass. Man played the guitar, sang. Sometimes I’d see him sitting in the van with the side door open, keeping the Wynne fellow company while he worked on his car, and he’d be making music. Wasn’t very good, but at least he could carry a tune.”
“The newspaper said that Oriana Wynne could only give a first name for the little girl, Chrissy. There was no mention of the parents. You ever hear their names?”
“No.”
“Is it possible they could’ve killed all those people?”
The old man shook his head. “No way. Would’ve taken more than a man and a woman — and a slothful man and woman at that. No, I think they saw what happened and took off.”
“So that’s all you know?”
“About them, yes. Now, there was somebody else living in the canyon for a while, a man maybe in his late twenties. Was there for around a month, but two weeks before the murders he was gone.”
“Can you describe him?”
“Tall, thin, blond hair. I saw him in the meadow a couple of times, clearing land for a fall vegetable garden. Got it spaded up and had sacks of fertilizer and compost there, but it never got planted.”
Guy considered. The man probably didn’t have anything to do with the killings, but the timing and abruptness of his departure was interesting.
“There’s one other thing,” Cordova said. Excitement rippled under the surface of his voice and he leaned forward.
This is it, Guy thought. He’s saved the best for last.
“That Blakeley woman, she had an outside interest. Couple of times I saw her leaving the property up north by the speed-limit sign. Came down a path through the bushes near where the stream runs under the highway in a culvert. Would be a car waiting for her. She’d get in and off they’d go. I found that kinda interesting, so I played detective. Waited there to see how long they’d be gone. Two hours at most and he’d drop her off. Big clinch before she got out.”
Guy asked, “Did you recognize the man?”
“Yes.”
“But you didn’t tell the sheriff’s department about this, either.”
“No. The man was somebody I didn’t want to make an enemy of. Had a reputation for violence, even back then.”
“Who was he, Mr. Cordova?”
The old man’s eyes glittered as he gave up his secret. “Deputy Wayne Gilardi.”
“Wayne misplaced those blood samples?” Jack stared at Rho in disbelief.
“You heard me, Dad.”
He came back to the table, slumped on the bench seat. “And you covered for him all these years?”
She nodded.
“Why, honey?”
“Because he was my mentor from the day I joined the department. He stood up for me against the guys who didn’t want a woman to be a deputy. Besides, Janie was pregnant and he was up for promotion to a higher pay grade. An error like that would’ve screwed his chances.”
“He ask you to take the blame?”
“No.”
“He tell you not to?”
“Yes.”
“But you did it anyway.”
“Right. I didn’t have as much to lose.”
Jack looked at her with respect. “I’m proud of you, Deputy.”
“Well, everybody made mistakes — at the scene and later on. None of us, right on up to Detective Lieutenant Marx, were prepared to handle a crime like that. I didn’t see any reason for Wayne to suffer. I was a rookie; it was to be expected of me.”
Her father shook his head. “To be expected of you by everybody but your old man. I was tough on you. Too tough, and now I’m sorry.”
“Not as tough as some.” She thought of Will Scurlock’s tirade. “Besides, you’re a perfectionist, and you were frustrated because you couldn’t help out.”
“Still, I should’ve been more supportive of my girl.”
She made a gesture of dismissal. “I could use some support now.”
“Name it.”
She hesitated, unsure if she could trust the sudden change in Jack’s attitude. “I’m worried about Wayne, Dad.”
“Why?”
“He’s changed. I didn’t fully realize how much until I was talking with Will Scurlock about the gradual change in Virge. Wayne was always on the tough side, but he’s graduated from knocking around drug dealers to roughing up anybody who crosses him. Last night he was right on the edge — kicked ass before he ran some people in for petty infractions.”
“Not good in a sensitive situation like this.”
“No, and it’s not just his professional life that’s messed up. He’s got at least three different women on the side, and Janie’s threatened to leave him. Her coworkers at the cable TV office tell me she’s turned up with bruises on her face and arms more than once. Wayne beat the shit out of Lily’s boyfriend last month, and Saturday night he jerked her around in public.”
“So what’s causing this?”
“I think that Wayne, like the rest of us at the department, feels guilty because we never solved those murders. Guilty and angry, and he’s taking it out on everybody else.”
Jack was silent for a moment. “Before, you said you didn’t think this Newberry fellow could be stopped from writing his book.”
“I very much doubt it.”
“You also seemed to wonder if trying to suppress it was a good idea.”
She nodded. “Maybe it’s better if he brings it all out in the open. Maybe then we’d have closure.”
Again Jack was silent, and she knew better than to interrupt his thoughts. Before he spoke, the set of his mouth told her he’d reached a hard conclusion.
“If that’s what you want, then you know what to do.”
“Do I?”
“Yes, you do, Deputy. But since you seem somewhat confused, allow your old dad to spell it out for you.”
Guy had been back in his room at the bed-and-breakfast only minutes when someone knocked on the door. He sighed, thinking it was either Kevin Jacoby or Becca Campos. Both were pleasant enough but seemed needy, and at the moment he was in no mood to lend a sympathetic ear. He’d claim to be working, put off whoever it was till later.
When he opened the door, however, Rhoda Swift smiled up at him. She wasn’t in uniform, just jeans and a heavy hooded sweater, but the brittle quality of the smile told him this wasn’t a social call. Her eyes moved past him to his file boxes and laptop. “I hope I’m not interrupting your work,” she said.