What was it that Carmen Santiago said? “Quite the family man.” He grimaced and allowed himself a sheepish smile. He guessed that would be the best way to describe himself. Even so, a man couldn’t help but wonder where the interest of a pretty woman like Carmen might lead.
Chapter 22
Mattie and Stella were conferring in the staff office while Mattie held an icepack against her eye. Sheriff McCoy was meeting with Brody in his office, and Ramon Vasquez waited in the interrogation room. Mattie had taken an icepack to him earlier to use on his own face.
Stella and Mattie had prepared a file that contained the photo of Roger Howard with Adrienne and the threatening letter Vasquez had written to her. Things were convoluted right now with this confusion over the Howard versus Vasquez identity issue, and they hoped to get to the bottom of it. Not to mention what role he played in Adrienne’s death.
“Let’s go talk to him,” Stella said. “Do you have a soda or something you could take in there? And you know, be nice to him.”
“Don’t tell me we’re going to play good cop, bad cop.”
Stella grinned and gave a little shrug. “Stay in there with me when I join you. We’ll play it by ear.”
Mattie shrugged. “Okay, I’ll see what we have in the staff fridge. I might have to borrow a can of something from somebody.”
“Do what you have to do.”
Mattie left the ice pack on her desk and told Robo to stay on his dog bed. Soda in hand, she went to the interrogation room, tapping on the door as she entered. Vasquez gave her a hard look.
“I brought you a drink, Mr. Vasquez,” she said. “Do you want it?” She hoped she was being nice enough.
“Has it been opened yet?”
“No.”
“I’ll take it then.”
She set the can down in front of him.
“No telling what you people might put into it,” he said, popping the top. It released with a fizz.
Mattie pasted a pleasant look on her face.
“I want to talk with the guy in charge. This was police brutality,” he said, indicating his swollen jaw.
“Why did you run?” She figured she already knew the answer. Sheriff McCoy had obtained a search warrant, and Robo had found a stash of drug paraphernalia in his home. No drugs, but the equipment to use them. They’d bagged two pairs of cowboy boots and an ashtray full of cigarette butts. Even more important, they’d found a rifle and a compound bow with a supply of arrows and ammo.
Vasquez glowered at her.
Mattie pulled out a chair opposite from him and sat, fanning her hands on the tabletop. “Sheriff McCoy will join us later.”
Stella entered the room and pulled up a chair on Mattie’s side of the table. She placed the file in front of her but didn’t open it. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Vasquez. I had a few things to straighten out.”
He fixed his glare on Stella, so she gave him one of her too-sweet smiles that were so familiar. Mattie turned her attention to Vasquez, studying him while Stella made small talk. He was a handsome man with high cheekbones, a patrician nose, and dark brown hair. He took a sip of his cola, keeping his eyes on Stella over the top of the can.
Moving on, Stella started the interview. “Please tell me how you’re related to Adrienne Howard,” she said. Her demeanor told Mattie that—for now, at least—they were playing good cop, good cop.
“I’m her brother.”
Stella nodded. “We have a photograph of you and Adrienne that Velda Howard identified you in. She told us your name was Roger Howard.”
Vasquez gave a snort of disgust. “That’s the name they gave me.”
Stella paused, but he offered no other information.
“You knew about Adrienne’s death?”
“I found out this morning.”
Stella became very serious. “Who told you?”
“Jack Kelly, a friend of mine. Adrienne’s too.”
“Where does he live?”
“Willow Springs.”
“Where is he employed?”
“Green Thumb Organics.”
Bingo. The place Mattie intended to contact next. She withdrew a note pad from her pocket and recorded the man’s name.
“How did he find out about her death?” Stella asked.
“Hell if I know. You’d have to ask him. Is it true that Adrienne was killed?”
“Yes, it’s true. Her death is under investigation.”
His gaze dropped to the table, and he made a hissing sound, tongue against teeth, as he released his breath. “Shit, man.”
Mattie watched him close his eyes and remain silent, head lowered, for a full minute. When he raised his face, there were no tears and no semblance of surprise. “How can I help you?” he asked.
“You can help by explaining your family to us. How did you come to live with the Howards? This name-change business and so forth,” Stella said.
He grimaced. “It’s a long story, but I’ll keep it short. The family secret.” He drew an audible breath. “In the beginning, I was told that my mother and Velda Howard were best friends, and that when I was a baby, my mother gave me to Velda to raise. I was told that my mother couldn’t afford to keep me, and the Howards took me in out of the goodness of their hearts. They adopted me and named me Roger Howard. Had a birth certificate to prove it. But a few months ago, I learned it was all a lie.”
When his silence lengthened, Stella prompted him. “And what’s the truth?”
“Velda Howard is my birth mother.” His disappointment in that fact was palpable.
Mattie wondered if Vasquez had written the letter to Adrienne before or after the truth came out. “When did you discover this?”
“June tenth. I’ll remember that date until the day I die.”
So it was after the letter. “Did Adrienne know the truth?”
“Oh, yes.” He frowned. “She’s the one who told me. It changed my life completely.”
“I bet it was a shock,” Stella said. “How did the truth come out?”
The frown deepened. “I, uh, sort of lost my way for a while. Adrienne moved from Willow Springs without telling me. She didn’t tell me she was leaving, and she didn’t tell me where she was going. I was, uh, pretty upset.”
“Why?” Stella asked. “What upset you about it?”
He gave Stella an incredulous look. “Wouldn’t you be upset if your sister packed up in the middle of the night and moved away without a word?”
Stella nodded slowly, evidently conceding the point. “Why would Velda Howard lie to you about being your birth mother?”
Pain flickered across Ramon’s face before it hardened again. “I don’t know, I haven’t asked her. Maybe because she considered me her bastard child.”
“Let’s back up for a minute,” Stella said. “Tell me what happened when you graduated from high school. Why did you leave home, and where did you go?”
“The Howards were both alcoholics, and David could be a mean drunk. We never knew what would piss him off or who he was going to hit. He liked to point out that I was Mexican. Called me ‘spick,’ and when he was really drunk, he’d laugh at me and call me Ramon Vasquez. I grew up being taunted with it, but I felt certain that it was my real birth name.” He shrugged and looked down at the table again. “I decided to go to California to look for my birth parents. I knew that Velda lived there before moving to Colorado and marrying David Howard.”