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The construction site was in Tutuilla, a neighborhood on the reservation south of the interstate. Dela hadn’t driven through this area since she’d returned home. It had more houses with small acreage than she remembered all nestled inside of farm ground. She liked the mix of agriculture and manageable parcels of land with horses and other farm animals.
A one-story home on a corner lot had a For Sale sign. The house sat in the middle of what looked like an acre of land. The neighbors were far enough away, she wouldn’t feel like they were watching her every move. She’d saved up most of her pay from the army. She had a good feeling about this place. Dela pulled out her phone and put the number for the realtor in her contacts.
“What are you doing?” Quinn asked.
“Thinking about my future.” She studied the place in her side mirror. She could put up solid fencing and Eats a Lot—she really needed to come up with a better name—could run around all day long outside with a large dog house to stay out of the weather. The more she thought about it, she wanted that house. And it was only three miles from work. Closer than her mom’s place.
Ahead she spotted a new house being built. “You’re sure he’s here? If he found out about, or killed, Mattie he could be on the run.”
“His roommate told Shaffer he was at work.” Quinn parked the SUV out of the way of the crane being used to lift rafters on the house.
They stepped out of the vehicle and a short pot-bellied man with a hard hat walked up to them. “No Lookie Lous. We haven’t had an accident in the thirty years I’ve been doing this.”
Quinn flashed his badge. “We need to talk to Luke Saxton.”
The man stared at the badge before hollering, “Luke, people to see you.”
When Luke walked up, the foreman walked away.
“I need the money, what’s this about?” The man was in his twenties, tall, slender, brown hair and brown eyes. Dirt, sawdust, and grease clung to his boots, jeans, and long-sleeved shirt.
Quinn showed his badge. “We need to talk to you about Mattie Collier.”
Luke’s eyes widened. “Mattie? What’s wrong with Mattie?”
Dela’s chest squeezed. He didn’t know she was dead.
“Did you see her last night?” Quinn asked.
Luke took two steps toward him. “What happened? Where’s Mattie?”
Dela stepped between the two. She hated telling soldiers one of their friends hadn’t made it. She knew the gut wrenching loss. “Mattie was killed this morning at her place.”
Luke shook his head. He grabbed the hard hat and flung it at the ground. “No! You’re lyin’.”
“I’m afraid not. We need to know when was the last time you saw her and what she talked about.” Dela grasped the young man’s arm and led him over to a pile of lumber. She forced him to sit.
Quinn returned with a bottle of water.
That’s when she spotted the foreman standing ten feet away and the rest of the crew staring at them.
“I told her to just throw that fuckin’ book away.” He wiped at the tears trickling down his face.
“The book that Tristan Pomroy kept all his blackmail information in?” Quinn asked.
Luke’s head snapped up, starring at Quinn. “You know about the book?”
“And that your name was in it.”
“I didn’t kill him, but I was happy to see the book when Mattie showed it to me. He’d been taking every cent I made that didn’t pay for my rent and food.”
“Because you had been stealing money from purses at the casino,” Dela said, reminding him he wasn’t any better than the man who’d blackmailed him.
“I didn’t take that much. It was an adrenaline rush better than gambling. I hated that Mattie worked nights and we couldn’t go out or spend time together because of our schedules. I’d wait around and she’d come see me on her breaks until I had to go home and get some sleep.” His eyes narrowed. “Who killed her?”
“That’s what we hope you can help us with. Her place was torn up. Did she happen to say what she was going to do with the book? Who she planned to call?” Quinn had pulled out a small notepad and pen.
“Not really. When I didn’t want the book, she said she’d get us enough money to go to California.” He shrugged. “I didn’t care where we went as long as she took me with her.”
“She didn’t mention who she thought would pay for the book?” Dela had a hard time believing the young woman didn’t tell her boyfriend her plans.
“She said something about maybe the wife would like to know her husband had money stashed somewhere.” His gaze hopped between them. “Do you think she did it?”
“That’s our next stop. Any idea where Mattie might have hid the book?” Dela asked.
He shook his head then stopped. “You might check her car. A couple times she made a comment about she could run drugs. Her car had a secret compartment. I just laughed. I knew she wouldn’t do that. Her mom is a crackhead.”
Quinn and Dela exchanged a glance.
“Thank you, and I’m sorry for your loss,” Dela said, before she and Quinn walked back to the SUV.
“The car or Paula Pomroy’s?” Dela asked.
“Let’s talk to Paula.”
Quinn started the vehicle and drove toward the interstate. They passed the house with the For Sale sign. It would be perfect. As Quinn accelerated onto the interstate, Dela pulled out her phone.
She dialed the realtor’s number.
“Cathryn Wright, realty,” a woman’s voice answered.
“Hi. My name is Dela Alvaro and I’m interested in the house in Tutuilla.” She rattled off the number of the home and the road it was on.
“That house has been on the market a while. The seller wants to get it off their hands.”
The woman’s statement sent tendrils of happiness squirrelling around in Dela’s chest. If it was affordable enough, she could get a fence put up right away. She asked questions as the woman told her the price and how it had all the appliances and a dining room table that went with it. “Is there a chance I could take a look inside later today or tomorrow morning?”
“Of course. I can meet you there in twenty minutes.”
Dismay struck. She would have loved to turn around and meet the realtor. However, catching a killer was more important than her looking at a house. “That’s not going to work. I guess we should make it tomorrow morning. Nine o’clock?”
“It is Sunday.”
“Oh, I’m sorry! I work at the casino and forget what day of the week it is.”
“I can come but could you make it more like noon or one?”
“One, then.” Dela hoped she wasn’t running off to talk to a suspect then and waste the woman’s time.
“I’ll be there.”
She ended the call as Quinn left the interstate.
“You’re going to look at the house out where we just were?” he asked, glancing at her before watching the traffic as they made their way across town to where the Pomroy’s lived.
“I like that the house was off by itself, with some land around it.” The realtor had said it was an acre and a half. That was a lot of grass to mow, but maybe there was a kid in the neighborhood who wanted to make some money.
“If it was the place on the corner, there were only a couple of small trees. That’s not much privacy. It would be like living in a fish bowl.”
She studied him. “Are you trying to talk me out of looking at the house?”
“No. Well, I just see you as more of an in-town dweller.”
A laugh burst through her partially open lips. “In town? Seriously?”
He parked in the Pomroy driveway. “With as much time as you spend at the casino, it just seems like a small house or apartment in town makes more sense.”
“Maybe to you, but I like my privacy. If the house doesn’t need too much TLC, I’m buying it. It’s better than what I’ve been seeing to rent, and if it’s mine, I can do whatever I want to it.” She slid out of the vehicle and landed harder on the prosthesis than the stub liked. The pain made her wonder if maybe Quinn wasn’t right about her needing a small place that didn’t require upkeep.
She hung back, grinding her teeth against the phantom pain that ran from her nonexistent toes to her hip.
Quinn stepped onto the porch and glanced back. “Do you want to be a part of this conversation?”
“Yeah.” She moved slowly to not jar the leg again.
Quinn watched her, his eyes scanning the length of her and studying her leg. “I know you were discharged for medical reasons. Care to share?”
She shook her head.
He shrugged and rang the doorbell.
Making her way slowly up to the door, she’d scanned the closed garage door.
Quinn rang the bell again.
“I don’t think she’s home. The garage door was open the last time we were here.” Dela stepped off the porch and walked around to the side of the house, peering in the windows. Everything was in its place. No sign of anyone in the house. She continued to the back. The backyard had a low cyclone fence. She swung the gate open and entered. A swing set and plastic child-sized car revealed the boy played in the yard.
She walked up to the back door and tried the knob. Locked. Might as well make a circle around the house. There wasn’t a gate on the other side of the house. Rather than try to climb over the fence, with her leg aching, she retraced her steps and found Quinn standing by the open gate.
“Nothing,” she said, walking by him and to the front of the house.
“It’s Saturday. She doesn’t work weekends.”
“Maybe she’s shopping. Want to wait for her to return?” Dela asked.
Quinn didn’t answer.
She glanced over her shoulder at him. He was watching the house next door. Scanning the house, she spotted a curtain flutter.
“Let’s go talk to that neighbor,” Quinn said, striding by her.
She caught up to him as he climbed the three steps onto the porch of the two-story family home.
Quinn pressed the doorbell.
A dog barked and a child shouted, “Door!”
The scratching of dog nails on hardwood could be heard on the other side.
“Bop, no!” a frazzled female voice said as the door opened and a long-legged, shaggy dog pushed between Dela and Quinn, running down the stairs.
“Todd, go get him!” the woman at the door said, shoving a boy around eight out onto the porch.
When the boy had also squeezed between them, hurdling the steps and yelling, “Bop, here boy! Bop!”, the woman smiled at them.
“Hello. We are Catholics.” She started to shut the door.
Quinn put his foot in the way and showed his badge. “I’m Special Agent Pierce with the FBI and this is my associate.” He motioned to Dela. “We’d like to ask you a few questions about your neighbors, the Pomroys.”
“Oh, I thought you were a church group.”
Dela glanced at the Casino logo on her polo shirt, wondering if this woman was observant enough to answer any questions about her neighbor.
“I heard from Cheryl next door an FBI man had been around asking questions. I was at work when you came by.” She opened the door wider and waited for them to enter before glancing up and down the street and shutting the door.
“I’m sorry about the dog,” Dela said.
The woman waved her hand. “Bop is always making a run for it. I’ve called the fencing company to put up a fence in my backyard like Paula’s but they haven’t had time to get to it, I guess.” She walked into the living room. “Come in, have a seat. Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thank you, Mrs?” Quinn asked.
“Ms. Jennifer Gray.”
“Ms. Gray, we have a couple of questions. Did you see Paula this morning?” Quinn asked, remaining standing.
Dela shifted all her weight to her good leg. She would have loved to sit down, but followed Quinn’s lead in the questioning.
“I didn’t talk to her, but I saw her putting Alfie in his car seat and a suitcase in the trunk of the car. I figured after what happened to Tristan she was going to her parents’.”
“Where do her parents live?” Quinn asked.
“Portland, I think.” She tapped on her chin with a perfectly manicured nail. “Well, not Portland, but one of the towns around it.”
“Were you home Thursday night?” Quinn asked.
“Yes. I watched Alfie for Paula. She said some friends were staying at the casino and wondered if I could watch Alfie while she visited with them.” The woman frowned. “She called me at eleven and said she was too drunk to drive did I mind keeping him overnight. I asked where Tristan was. She said he was on one of his wild goose chases. So I said as long as she was here to get Alfie before I had to go to work. She was here at seven.”
Dela thought that was pretty self-centered of Paula to ask her neighbor to keep her child so she could fool around and possibly kill her husband. It also proved the woman had lied to them about thinking her husband was watching their child. “Did you understand what she meant by her husband going on one of his wild goose chases?”
The woman waved a hand and chuckled. “The whole neighborhood has heard about someone Tristan had seen on a crime fiction show. Once a week, he’d get all excited that he’d seen one of the FBI’s Most Wanted fugitives here in Pendleton. We all would listen and nod then laugh about it when he’d leave.”
The woman didn’t even blush at her pronouncement of the whole neighborhood thinking Tristan Pomroy was crazy.
“What about last night or early this morning? Did she ask you to watch her son?” Quinn asked.
“No, I haven’t talked to her since she picked up Alfie Friday morning.” The woman glanced at Dela. “Did she have something to do with Tristan’s death?”
“Why would you ask that?” Dela studied the woman.
“They had their share of quarrels. Paula complained he didn’t let her spend money, and he complained to my husband that Paula thought money grew on trees.”
“They argued about money?” Quinn asked.
Dela wondered why he asked that when the woman had just stated they did.
“All the time. Paula liked to go out and wear nice things. She said all Tristan wanted to do was sit in his den and watch true crime. When she asked for money to buy something she always had to bring him the receipts.”
Now she understood why he’d asked. To get more information. Information that revealed, if Paula knew about Tristan’s blackmail money hiding in an account in the Cayman’s, she would want it. One way or the other.
“Thank you. Your answers have been helpful.” Quinn headed to the door.
Dela followed, slower. “Did you happen to see any men or women visiting the Pomroy house when Tristan was at work?”
“Only the last couple of weeks. And then last night. There was a young woman who drove up to the house about dark. I noticed because I was coming back from walking Bop. She sat in her car for several minutes before walking up to the front door.” The woman shrugged. “I didn’t pay attention to when she left.”
Quinn had spun around. “What kind of car was it?”
“A small compact. I’m not good with makes or anything. It was a dark color. Sorry, that’s all I can remember.”
“Thank you.” Dela motioned for Quinn to open the door.
When they were seated in the SUV, Dela asked “What do you want to bet that young woman was Mattie?”