image
image
image

Chapter Fourteen

image

Dela grimaced when Faith smiled sweetly at Quinn.

“Special Agent, what can I do for you?” she asked.

He motioned for Dela to tell her friend.

“Faith, can you tell us if Mr. Edmond, in eight-thirty-four, is still registered?” Dela asked, ignoring her friend’s gaze jumping back and forth between her and Quinn.

“Let me see.” Faith finally dropped her gaze to the keyboard and tapped. She smiled and shifted her gaze from the keyboard to Quinn. “Yes. He is still registered to that room.”

“Thank you,” Quinn said, putting a hand on Dela’s back, moving her toward the elevators.

She swatted at his hand. The warmth from it disappeared. In the elevator, she faced him. “Please don’t put your hands on me while I’m working.”

His right eyebrow arched. “Does that mean you’re open to me putting my hands on you outside of work?”

Heat blasted her face. “No! I meant, don’t give my matchmaking friend anymore kindling.”

“That’s why her eyes were bouncing back and forth. I thought maybe she had an eye disorder.”

Dela restrained the laugh that bubbled in her throat. Wait until she told Faith, Quinn thought she had an eye problem. “Yes. Ever since I moved back, she has been trying to hook me up with men. I’m not interested.”

“In men?” Both his eyebrows raised.

“No! Quit messing with what I’m saying. I don’t have time for a relationship. You’ve seen how many hours a day I spend here. I’m not even sure I should have a dog, I’m away from home so much.” The elevator stopped and they stepped out.

Neither one talked as they walked down the hall to room 834. Quinn raised his hand and knocked on the door.

The door opened. Mr. Edmond stood in the opening, holding a cell phone to his ear. “I’ll call you back.” He stepped back, shoving his phone in his suit pocket. “I gave all my answers to your security man and a tribal detective.”

They both entered the room. Quinn closed the door behind them, and Dela walked over to the desk.  The two queen beds in the room were both rumpled as if they had both been used.

“Can you explain what Mrs. Pomroy was doing in this room the night her husband was killed?” Dela asked.

The man raised his hands as a goofy smile spread across his face. “We met in the bar. She didn’t say she was married. How was I supposed to know her husband was getting killed while we were, you know?”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t know. Why did she leave this room with a robe on and go to the stairs?”

He stared at her. “What are you talking about?”

“And why did the camera not show you leaving this room but it shows you returning early in the morning?” Quinn crossed his arms, his gaze leveled on the man.

Dela was delighted to see the bounty hunter squirming. Not literally, but perspiration beaded his forehead and his eyelid twitched.

“Who are you here to collect a bounty on?” Quinn asked.

“No one. I just came for some fun. You know R and R after working hard.” Ronald relaxed a little.

Dela wondered if he was really here for relaxation and now found himself caught up in a murder investigation. “What are you doing holed up here in your room?”

Ronald stared at her before opening his mouth. “I was asking about any possible fugitives in the area. Thought since I’m stuck here until your police say I can go, I might as well try to drum up some business.”

She didn’t buy that. “Who said you were stuck here?”

“Detective Jones, I think it was. With the tribal police.”

Dela and Quinn exchanged a glance. Why would he tell Ronald to stay here? They hadn’t even considered him a part of the equation until now.

“Why did he tell you to hang around? Did you have information about the murder?” Quinn asked.

“Nope. But when he heard I was a bounty hunter he said my help might be needed.”

Dela couldn’t stop her eyes from rolling. Leave it to Detective Dick to think someone as unqualified as a bounty hunter could help him find a killer.

“At least he did something right,” Quinn said. “You are now a person of interest in this murder since you were messing around with the victim’s wife on the night of his death and you have been hanging around his home for the last month.” Quinn walked toward the door. “If you leave town let myself or the tribal police know where you are.”

Dela walked out the door Quinn opened.

“What gives you authority to tell me what to do?” Ronald spat back.

Quinn flashed his badge. “The Federal Bureau of Investigation.”

The bounty hunter’s eyes widen. It was evident, he thought he’d been dealing with casino security.

Out in the hall, Dela faced Quinn. “He either helped Paula or was used by her to give her an alibi.”

“We need to find out where they each were when Mattie was killed.” Quinn punched the button on the elevator.

“We could go back in and ask him,” Dela said, making an about face.

“Let’s see what Marty can find on video of his actions this morning first. I’d rather catch him up in a lie than have him tell me some story.”

She spun back to the elevator and they entered.

As the elevator descended, Dela’s phone buzzed. She slid her finger across the screen.

“Hey, I think I found something.”

“We’ll be right there.” Dela ended the call and smiled at Quinn. “Wallace found something.”

♠ ♣ ♥ ♦

image

In the technology department, Dela and Quinn took seats on either side of Wallace.

“I made it into Tristan’s computer. There were the usual forms, spreadsheets, and documents that are necessary for his job. But he also had three encrypted files.” He handed Dela and Quinn a paper. “This appears to be a bank account in the Cayman Islands.”

“A country that doesn’t disclose your information,” Quinn said.

“This is way more than his wages,” Dela said. She glanced at Quinn. “Do you think Paula knows about this?”

“We’ll have to ask when we see her later.” Quinn’s gaze landed on the papers in Wallace’s hands. “What else did you find?”

“A list of transactions that match the dates of the deposits in that account.” He handed them each a page. “Two of the initials line up with what we know so far. J.T.- Jeff Twiggs, and L.S. – Luke Saxton. There’s also a R.E. and V.B. As far as I can tell, no money had been received from the V.B.”

Dela stared at the page. “Do you think R.E. is Ronald Edmond?”

“If so, that gives us even more reason to want to look into his whereabouts at the time of the death.” Quinn rattled his pages. “Do you think the V. B. is Van Branson ?”

“It could be. He was also in the vicinity at the time of the murder. All we have is his word he was smoking on the stairway. And he would have knowledge about how to cut power to the camera.”

“That’s what I was thinking.” Quinn swung his gaze to Wallace. “What else do you have there?”

“Correspondence between Tristan and someone in the FBI about a man who is wanted for armed robbery in California.” He handed that over.

“This is the same information your agent came up with,” Dela said, seeing the sketch and reading the name of the wanted man, Vladimer Chernoff. “Do you think Tristan really found this man?”

Quinn shrugged. “It’s a possibility. But what would he be doing here in the Pendleton area?”

“Blending in? You’d think with a name like that he’d have an accent.” Dela’s stub was throbbing. She walked over and sat down, propping the prosthetic foot on the box under the table. “Was there anything else on the computer?”

“He’d been looking into plane tickets to the Cayman Islands,” Wallace said.

“Tickets? As in for two people?” Quinn asked.

“Tickets as in researching prices. I’m not sure if it was for one or two.” Wallace sat down at his desk. “That’s all I found on the computer.”

“It’s enough to give us several good suspects,” Dela said. “Let’s go see what Marty found.”

Quinn followed her out of the tech department, down the hall, out through security, and along the edge of the casino floor to the surveillance rooms.  She gained access to the rooms with her ID card and they walked through the main room and over to Marty’s office.

Marty glanced up when they entered. “Paula Pomroy left the casino at three a.m.”

“Can we see?” Dela asked.

The monitor came alive with the front entrance of the casino. Walking toward the camera was Paula. Dressed the same as when she’d walked in. Her hair wasn’t as neat, but her clothing didn’t appear to have any blood on it.

“We never did see what she purchased in the gift shop,” Dela muttered.

Quinn studied the footage. “Let’s go ask.”

“We can’t unless she paid with a credit card. Teresa, the woman who works the gift shop nights, hasn’t come into work yet.” Dela studied the video. “Did you get a chance to pull up more of Tristan visiting the casino?”

Marty nodded. “I went back another week.”

Quinn’s phone rang. He answered and moved to a corner of the room.

“Roll the video,” Dela said.

She watched Tristan wander around the casino a couple of times when Quinn broke into her concentration.

“Don’t get comfortable. Guess who Mattie’s boyfriend is?”

Dela glanced back at him. “One of our suspects?”

“Luke Saxton. I think we need to visit him.”

Dela pushed to her feet. “I think so, too.” She motioned to the monitor. “Keep watching and see who he actually talks to.”

Marty nodded.

Her leg throbbed as they walked out of surveillance and across the casino floor. Her only solace was knowing she could rest her leg as Quinn drove. “Where are we headed?”

“Saxton’s work,” Quinn said, as they exited the building.

“Where does he work?”

“For a construction company.”

“He would have access to a serrated tool.” She slid into the passenger seat of Quinn’s SUV. “Did you ever hear how Mattie was killed?”

“Stabbing in the neck.” Quinn glanced over at her. “Too soon to know if it’s the same weapon as killed Pomroy.”