The Hallows, page 10
“Do you have kids, Roscoe?”
“Yeah,” he said, folding his arms. “Why?”
“How old are they?”
“Got a boy that’s ten. Lyle. Why?”
“When was the last time you were over by the Hallows campgrounds?”
“Hallows? Where Patty was found?”
I nodded.
“Oh, jeez, I dunno . . . last year maybe.”
Damn it.
“Last year? You’re certain of that?”
“Yeah, we went camping up there during the summer.”
“Did you buy Lyle a toy monkey a few weeks ago from the hobby shop? White with plastic swords in its hands?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“You’re sure? Because the owner has a credit card receipt with your name.”
“My ex and I have a joint account still. Might have been her.”
“Roscoe, which of you has custody of your boy?”
“She does.”
“I’m going to need her address and phone number.”
28
Nikyee Geller lived in an upscale condo across the Nevada border. Mesquite wasn’t a large town, but it looked new enough and had several casinos along with a new marijuana dispensary. I drove through residential neighborhoods filled with stucco homes with red Spanish-style roofs. I parked in front of one with a red Mercedes in the driveway. The porch had several toys on it, something younger kids would play with. Nikyee was expecting me, but she didn’t answer after several knocks. I rang the doorbell a few times, and she answered in workout clothes.
She was my age but looked a helluva lot better. I guessed several hours a day of working out, tanning, and fruits and veggies would do that—all things that belonged in hell as far as I was concerned.
“Hey, Tatum Graham. We spoke on the phone.”
“Yeah,” she said, pulling her hair back with a rubber band. “Wow, you haven’t changed since high school.”
“Not true, but I appreciate it.”
“So what can I do for you?”
“I spoke with Roscoe, and he said you liked to go camping up at the Hallows. That right?”
“Yeah, we go up a few times a year.”
I looked inside the home. Over the mantel was a large photo of Nikyee, a child, and a buff dude with slicked-back, greasy hair and a tight shirt. The new hubby, I guessed. I could see her entire relationship with Roscoe in a flash: she married young to get out of the house, only to realize that he bored her, and Greasy there was more exciting. And given the fingerprint-shaped bruising I saw on her arms, I guessed exciting wasn’t the only thing he was.
“Those are some bad bruises. You okay?”
She crossed her arms. “Fine. What is this about exactly? I’m in the middle of a workout.”
“When was the last time you guys went camping up there?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know. Few months ago.”
Might be around the time Patty was killed. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah. My husband likes to take our dirt bikes up to the dunes. Why?”
I pulled out my phone. “This toy look familiar?”
“Oh yeah, you found it.” She smiled. “My son was a mess.”
My stomach dropped. “This is your son’s?”
“Yeah, Lyle. I bought that for him because monkeys are his favorite animal. He cried for like two days that he’d lost it.”
“What time does he get out of school?”
The smile fell, and she leaned against the doorframe. “I don’t think you can talk to my boy until you tell me exactly what this is about.”
“I’m guessing you’ve heard about what happened to Patty Winchester. I’m with the County Attorney’s Office prosecuting the case. I’m just following up on a few things. This toy was found up there in the Hallows. Near the body.”
Her eyes went wide. “You think Lyle saw something?”
“I don’t know.”
“There’s no way. He tells me everything. He certainly would’ve told me.”
“Never hurts to ask, right? I don’t want time alone with him. We can do it together, and it won’t take longer than a minute.”
“Well, he’s in extended day today. He has a short day tomorrow, so you can come by then and see him if you want.”
I nodded. “Tomorrow then.” I turned and said, “And, uh, if it gets worse than bruising, you call me at the Ute County Attorney’s Office. Ask for Tatum. I’ll take care of it.”
She rubbed her arms over the bruises and then shut the door.
29
Back at the offices, I got an update that a forensic team was coming down but wouldn’t get here until the next morning. Jia and Will had also interviewed Cecily. She denied everything at first, and then admitted that Patty had, indeed, been escorting for Farah. Apparently her dad’s mechanic shop had been failing and money had been getting tighter, and she’d thought it was a way she could help out the family. She’d never given her dad money—it would have raised too many questions. Instead, she’d paid bills behind his back or stocked the fridge with groceries when he wasn’t around. Hank had no idea what his daughter was doing.
Unfortunately, Patty had refused to tell Cecily much about that part of her life, so she had no idea if Patty’d had a stalker or not. Patty, it seemed, had been living two lives and had wanted them kept as separate as possible.
I leaned back in a chair in the conference room, which apparently was my office for now, and put my feet up on the table. I stared at a painting on the wall of a cowboy sitting on a horse, its head dipped in a stream. The cowboy was looking off at the horizon. The painting had struck me as tacky the first time I saw it, but staring at it, I felt there was something haunting there. A man alone in a desert with nothing but his animal.
A knock on the door snapped me out of it. The secretary stood there and said, “Phone call for you.”
I rose and followed her to the lobby. The secretary was working on a crossword puzzle, and she put her glasses on and went right back to it.
“This is Tatum.”
“Mr. Graham,” a male voice said. I’d recognize that raspy little weasel’s voice out of a hundred voices.
“Russell. How nice of you to call. Are you congratulating me for putting your client away? Little early for that, isn’t it?”
“Oh no, I wouldn’t quite bank on that yet. Just wanted to touch base and make sure there wasn’t any discovery I should be receiving.”
“As I’m sure you’re aware, I have no obligation to give you anything until the preliminary hearing. Be grateful you got what you got.”
“The prelim’s in a few days. You’ll have to hand it all over then. And the fact that you haven’t feels to me like something nice and exculpatory is in there.”
“Yeah, well, feelings can be deceiving. What the hell are you doing out here anyway? I thought you stuck to the coasts.”
“I could say the same about you. Imagine my surprise when I learned you were not just an attorney on this case, but the prosecutor.” He chuckled. “I never thought I’d see the day. Frankly, I think you’re a bit of a traitor to the criminal defense profession. Let me give you a bit of advice, and I won’t even bill you for it: people do insane things. Your client killed that girl. So what? You didn’t kill her. You did your job. The fact that you don’t see that shows your weakness. And guess what, Tatum? I’m going to exploit that weakness, and when my client is acquitted, you’ll leave prosecution, too. Where you going to run then?”
“I don’t know. There’s always your mother’s house. She seems to always welcome me.”
He laughed. “I’m glad we talked. This will be even easier than I thought. Goodbye, Tatum. See you next week.”
I hung up and took a deep breath. The secretary had a little stress ball, a green goblin with bulging eyes. I grabbed it and angrily squeezed it a dozen times before plopping it back on the desk and returning to the conference room.
I couldn’t just hang out all afternoon and do nothing, but as I was stepping out of the building, I ran into Jia, who said, “Leaving already?”
“Nothing to do here. Want a drink or an early dinner?”
“Sure.”
I drove us to Benson’s, and we sat in a booth near the window. I ordered a whiskey and water and Jia ordered a hamburger and beer.
“Why are you here?” I said.
“I’m hungry.”
“You know what I mean. You’re smart, far smarter than anyone in that office knows. I can see it clear as day. You could be at the feds prosecuting terrorists and serial killers. Why waste time on drug offenses and DUIs in a small hick town?”
“You say that like it’s not important.”
“Is it?”
“It is. And I’m not stuck. One day I’m going to be county attorney. Or maybe I’ll go somewhere else. I’ve always wanted to work at a big firm, too, and see what that was like. I like it here for now, though. I just need to figure out what I’m doing as a lawyer.”
I smirked. “Let me tell you something, Jia. No one knows what they’re doing. Not the judges, not the prosecutors, not the defense attorneys, or the cops. We’re all just winging it.”
“I looked you up, and your Wikipedia page said you’ve never lost a trial. That doesn’t sound like winging it to me.”
“I’m an exception, but that’s not something you learn. You’re born with it. I have it, and Russell Pritcher has it, too. He’s never lost a case either, you know. That isn’t something they teach you in law school.”
“So you’re saying I don’t have it?”
I shrugged. “I’m saying you’re not going to find out if you got it or not by prosecuting horse thieves. You need to test yourself.”
“Well,” she said, taking a bite of burger, “lucky for me, we have a rape and murder case thrown in our laps, right?”
I watched her eat a minute and then finished my drink.
“What do you know about Patty’s love life?”
She shrugged, taking a napkin and wiping at her lips. “Just what you told us. I didn’t know her. When we got this case, I asked a friend of mine that does hair that knew her, and she said Patty dated a lot. All older guys. She didn’t like guys her age.”
“She give any names?”
Jia shook her head. “No, but honestly, if she was charging two grand a night like you said, and she only went on dates with guys from River Falls, there’s not that many people here that can swing that. Top of my list would be Nathan Ficco, Horace Webb, and the mayor. How the hell do you even get rich as a mayor? He makes like twenty-five grand a year.”
“Being mayor of anywhere has perks. Like buying worthless property and then getting it zoned commercial and selling it for ten times what you bought it for.” Outside the window, a woman was walking her large black dog without a leash. I watched the dog a moment and then said, “Do me a favor; when you get back to the office, get me an appointment with our dear mayor. And don’t tell Gates for now.”
30
The mayor’s office wasn’t in the City and County Building like the other city administration offices, but in an old Victorian-style home that had been converted to office space. The home was redbrick with white pillars out front and an American flag by each pillar.
Inside, law books took up massive floor-to-ceiling shelves and the furniture looked imported. A receptionist led me back to the mayor’s office; he was at his desk, on the phone. He held up his finger, indicating he’d be just a minute. I stood by the window, watching his reflection in it.
He was a large man that overflowed from his chair, and sweat glistened on the thick mustache that decorated his upper lip like a small rug. He wore an immaculate suit with a pocket square and had a ring on three of the four fingers of each hand.
When he hung up, he came over and thrust out his hand. “Roy Dawson, so nice to finally meet you.”
“Tatum Graham. Likewise.”
“Have a seat.”
I sat down across from him. The chair groaned as he sat and put his hands across his prodigious belly, a grin on his lips.
“So what can I do ya for?”
“Honestly, Mayor, I just wanted to come meet you. I figured there’d be cases we would want your input on, and I just wanted to get the meeting in first.”
“Well, I appreciate that. I’ve known your father for forty years. Good man, hard worker.”
“Yeah, thanks.”
I looked at the photos on the wall behind him. “Wife and kids?”
“Yes, yeah, four kids. You?”
“No. I can barely take care of myself.”
“I know the feeling,” he said with a chuckle.
A moment passed in awkward silence.
“So how long have you been married?”
“Going on twenty-four years.”
“Long time. Congrats. Most marriages that I’ve seen, at least in Miami where I lived before coming out here, were in shambles by then. It was typically the husbands cheating and the wives finding out and either sticking around because it was more comfortable than leaving or just not caring enough to leave.”
Another silence. The grin on his face was gone.
“Well, this isn’t Miami,” he finally said. “People out here respect their wedding vows.”
“I know. I love that about this place.” I brushed a piece of lint off my pants. “I guess you’ve been keeping up on the Patty Winchester case.”
“Who hasn’t? We haven’t had a murder here in over ten years. That one was at the Hallows, too. We should just close down that damn place. But yes, I’m familiar with Patty’s case from Gates.”
“Yeah, it’s really a shame, too. She seemed like a really pleasant girl. Beautiful, too. In fact I’d say one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen.”
He looked away from me, to his computer screen. “I couldn’t tell you. I don’t judge women on their looks, being a married man. ’Nother difference between here and Miami, I guess.”
“Guess so.”
“Look, Mr. Graham, it was nice meeting you, but I’ve really got a packed—”
“Did you know her?”
“Excuse me?”
“Patty Winchester. Did you know her?”
“What is this? Why are you asking me these questions?”
Time to rattle the cage with a lie and see what shook out.
“We, um . . . look, you’re the mayor, so I wanted to bring this to you. No one else knows about this. This is just you and me as far as I’m concerned. But there’s a video of you at a bar in Las Vegas. Skid Row. I was up there talking to the owner, and she mentioned that someone had come in there and assaulted Patty, shouting about how they were the mayor. They keep all their recordings in case there’s ever any investigation for anything, and they showed it to me, Mayor.”
The color left his cheeks, and he instantly slumped down into his seat. His fingers started to tremble.
Got you.
“I, um . . . could use a drink. You want a drink, Mr. Graham?”
“She was seventeen, Mayor. What were you thinking?”
“It, um . . .” His eyes rolled up to the ceiling. “I was in love with her. It just . . . I mean, it just happened. You can’t plan for something like that, it just takes over and happens. I mean, you saw her. You’re right, she’s one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.”
“Girl, actually. She wasn’t a woman yet.”
He swallowed. “When she broke it off, I just kinda lost it. I went out there to tell her that I loved her, that I wanted to be with her.”
“That you wanted to leave your wife?”
He sat stunned a moment and then nodded slowly. “I’m not proud of it. But it happens. Someone like me . . . that someone like her would even pay attention to me . . . I mean, no man could say no.” He chuckled mirthlessly. “You want to know something funny? I swear it made my marriage better. After being with Patty, I could go home and just be home. Be with my wife and kids.”
“Did you hire her as an escort?”
He nodded, staring down at his desk. “It started that way. It was, um, known that Patty was . . . you know, and that she had someone helping her with all that. I was given the information of who to contact. Some woman. But I promise you it wasn’t like that between me and Patty. She loved me, too. I think she was scared to commit because of what her father would think about her being with a man my age. She had all these dreams, all these plans, and I think she thought an older man would slow her down.”
“She was with you for the money, Roy. That’s it. She didn’t love you. She was working to support her father and brother the only way she thought she could. It was a job.”
He sat silently awhile, and I could see the sweat droplets that had formed on his forehead dribble down to his collar and leave little circular stains.
“Were you following her around? Showing up at places you thought she might be?”
“I don’t know. Some. The Vegas thing, I suppose.”
“Where were you on May fourteenth?” I asked.
“What?”
“The night Patty was killed. Where were you?”
“That’s ludicrous. I would never hurt Patty in a million years. I loved her and she loved me,” he said loudly, and then immediately recoiled when he realized his door was open.
“Where. Were. You?”
His eyes turned to slits, and the confidence he had lost when I shook him had returned. He stood up and said, “This is my town. You’re just a visitor here. Get the hell outa my office. And if that video ever makes the light of day, I swear to you I will sue you into the Stone Age. I’ll make the DA file so many charges against you for criminal defamation you’ll spend the next year in a cell eating porridge and beef jerky. And I have connections to the Utah Bar, too. I’ll make sure you never practice law again.”
