Ultimate Thriller Box Set - Crouch Blake (лучшие книги без регистрации txt) 📗

No wedding pictures of her own, though. There hadn’t been any.

She liked looking at the wall of photos from a distance, the cumulative effect of them arrayed tastefully, the mellow finish of the gold frames catching the light, but the truth was she rarely got up close and looked right at them. She didn’t like how they made her feel.

That was then; this is now.

Those days were as old and faded as the photographs, a half-remembered dream. Someone else’s life. She was not the pretty, shy girl perched on the fifty-thousand-dollar Thoroughbred hunter, the teenager giggling with friends at places as diverse as Dairy Queens and rock concerts.

The girl looking out of those photographs seemed confident of her future happiness.

Laura, looking at it from the perspective of distance, thought that was sad.

22

She was getting ready for work the next morning when she heard the gate creak out front. She looked out the window and saw Mike Galaz standing just inside the hog wire fence, almost concealed by the large mesquites. He seemed to be looking at her roof.

She came out on the porch. His gaze still fixed on the clay barrel tiles, he said, “Is that a prickly pear growing out of your roof, or are you just happy to see me?”

He didn’t sound mad. In fact, he sounded friendlier than she’d ever heard him. “Like it?” she said. “It’s the latest in home design." And immediately wondered—was she being too flip? “About last night—“

“Don’t worry about it.”

A compulsion to explain. “I guess I was more tired then I thought. I fell asleep.”

“No problema. You missed a good time, but it’s no big deal.” He removed his coat jacket and folded it neatly over his arm. “You have air conditioning in that shack? I feel like I’m going to melt.”

“Maybe you should trade that black SUV for a white one.”

“Why is that?” He stepped up onto the worn brick paving of the portal and wiped his brow with the back of his hand.

“Black attracts heat.”

He shrugged. “I’ve got good air conditioning. It’s just walking from the car to the house that kills me.”

He didn’t seem to know the basics about living in the desert. Like driving a white car or getting most of your outdoor work done before eight in the morning. She’d seen Galaz go out for a jog during his lunch hour in the middle of the summer.

The Galaz family had been around Tucson since the eighteen hundreds, but the lieutenant didn’t act like an native Tucsonan, except in one way. Tucson had a proud tradition of Hispanic politicos and wheeler-dealers.

She offered him coffee and he accepted while she went through the house closing windows and turning on the cooler.

He held his hand up toward the air vent, grimacing at the fishy smell. “You sure it works?”

“Swampbox,” she said. “It’ll take awhile.” She had no doubt that Mike Galaz had real air conditioning in his expensive home in the foothills.

A hundred years ago, he would probably have lived in a ranch house just like this one. He looked like he belonged here with his elegant Spanish features and aristocratic bearing. A man who would look good by candlelight.

He cradled the coffee mug in both hands. “I hope you don’t mind me dropping by like this.”

“No, of course not." But she started to feel nervous again.

Galaz sipped his coffee. “A shame you couldn’t meet Jay.”

“Jay?”

“Head of Dynever Security. The main reason I had the party, for you and him to meet.”

He was mad after all. What she was about to say would make him a lot madder. “About that.” She took a deep breath. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea to get them involved.”

“Because of the chain of custody? Is that what’s bothering you?”

“You know what a defense attorney might do with that.”

He stared at her, his dark eyes inscrutable. “You’re a good detective, Laura. You always think ahead. I like that.” He took out a handkerchief and wiped his forehead. “But you’ve got to give me some credit. There’s no way I’d jeopardize this investigation. If you’re worried about the forensics on the computer, of course our crime lab does that. No way I’d farm that out. I’m just talking about the cyber stuff. As far as I’m concerned, that’s just air.”

Air that can kill, Laura thought.

Galaz leaned back, and the Mexican chair creaked. “I thought you had your doubts about it being Lehman.”

“I have questions.”

“I saw the autopsy report. That part about the frying pan. I find it hard to believe Lehman would walk up the road looking for those two kids.”

“I can’t speak for Victor, but I bet he’d say that Lehman killed Cary in his house and dragged him up to the cabin at night.”

At the mention of Victor, Galaz’s eyes turned stony. Something between them. She remembered what Victor had called him—a control freak.

He crossed one knee over the other and said, “What do you think?”

“I didn’t see any blood evidence of that, and there would have been a lot of blood. Even when you clean a place really well, there’s always some residual blood. Nothing came up when we used Luminol.”

“CRZYGRL12. That bothers me, too. You said yourself Detective Holland hasn’t done much.”

“To be fair, we’ve been kept pretty busy.”

“But bottom line, you’ve got your doubts.”

She nodded.

He set his coffee mug down. “I think we should try this. Before he gets another girl. Victor and Buddy can work the Lehman angle.” He saw her expression and added, “I promise you, there won’t be any repercussions.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Yes, I can. I’ll take the blame if it goes wrong, but it won’t go wrong. This guy is good. You’ll like him.”

She noticed his word tenses. Past the negotiation phase. As far as he was concerned, it was a done deal. It would have been a done deal last night, but she’d messed that up by not showing.

She realized that if she had gone last night, this conversation wouldn’t be taking place. He would have asked her in front of this man Jay, and she would have had to agree. In the DPS—as in any law enforcement agency— you never made your boss look weak. Never.

Maybe Victor was right about the lieutenant’s need for control. He certainly had it now. Might as well get it over with. She could make a token effort, talk to the guy, then tell Galaz it didn’t work out. “Okay, I’ll talk to him.”

“Good." Galaz reached into his wallet and removed a card, set it on the table.

The card said Dynever Security  — Michael J. Ramsey II, CEO.

She stared down at the pale gray velum, the embossed letters. Heat suffused her face and her heart started to pound.

“Jay Ramsey?” she said. Her tongue felt stiff.

“You know him,” Galaz said. Not a question.

“No, not really. I only met him once.”

“Met” wasn’t strictly accurate. She’d noticed him plenty.

Watching him whack tennis balls at the Ramseys’ tennis court down the road from the stables. Watching him go from the house to his Range Rover, hanging with his friends, driving by in a cloud of dust.

“He asked about you,” Galaz said. “He thinks of you often.”

Occasionally, he’d look her way and nod.

“But of course that goes without saying,” Galaz added.

23

Galaz left soon after. Feeling as if she’d been whacked by a two-by-four, Laura walked out onto the porch, wondering what this all meant.

She had no particular objection to seeing Jay Ramsey. She didn’t know the man. But it had been eleven years since she had been in that part of town. There were so many memories …

Mrs. Ramsey, handing her the papers: We wanted you to have her. As a thank you.

A fifty-thousand-dollar thank you.

The phone rang and she jumped.

It was Barry Endicott, the sheriff’s detective from Indio. “Sorry I haven’t gotten back to you,” he said. “I’ve been working a case that’s taken all my time.”