Killer Heat. Brenda Novak
“That doesn’t tell me much.”
“Still in Arizona, working that series of murders. Something wrong?”
“I got a call from Lori this morning.”
Oh, shit. Now she was contacting his mother? “You didn’t tell her I was in Arizona, did you?”
“Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Because it’s none of her business, for one.”
“She’s upset, Jonah. She said she’s been trying to get in touch with you but you won’t respond.”
Considering the personal information he kept hidden for Lori’s sake, it took nerve for her to involve his mother. But she’d always had a lot of nerve.
Tempted to tell Rita everything, he wondered how she’d respond if he blurted out that Lori’s roommate wasn’t just a roommate. That Lori had been gay since before she’d married him.
But he didn’t do it. Why bother? Lori didn’t mean anything to him anymore, not even enough for revenge. It was simpler to pretend their problems had been far more mundane. “I’ve been busy,” he said instead.
“Too busy to return her call?”
“Mom, she’s my ex. That doesn’t make her my top priority. Why should I drop everything when she contacts me?”
“Why not? It wouldn’t hurt you to help her out.”
Did she even understand what his ex-wife wanted? What had Lori told his mother that had motivated Rita to jump in with both feet? Lord knew it didn’t take much, but she had to have been given some excuse. “What is it she needs?” he asked, just to see what his mother would say.
“You don’t know?”
He caught a glimpse of Francesca’s BMW in his rearview mirror and sped up. Murder case or no murder case, he could live without the confusion she inspired in him. “Not exactly.”
“It’s some sort of a character reference so she can adopt a child from the foster care system.”
A child from foster care? Hardly. She was competing with other would-be parents for an unborn child. But he didn’t correct her. Sometimes Rita went off half-cocked without knowing all the details. Life was easy for her—all black and white and full of snap judgments. This was a perfect example. “And how’s my character reference going to make a difference?”
“I can’t imagine. But she thinks it will. And it wouldn’t take you more than a few minutes to do her this favor.”
“Have a little faith, Mom. I’ll get to it when I can.”
“How about sooner rather than later, Jonah? Divorced couples don’t have to be enemies, you know. Take me and your father, for instance.”
He switched lanes. “Dad’s remarried, Mom.”
“And your point is?”
“He’s never the one who has to deal with you. His wife runs interference.”
“That’s not true. Anyway, Jolynn and I get along.”
Barely. Because he was close to his father and stepmother, Jonah knew that Jolynn was less than pleased about being Rita’s designated contact. She was just better with people, better with Rita, than his father, so she got stuck with the job. “How does that relate to anything?”
“I’m encouraging you to make peace with Lori, to stop holding a grudge.”
“Right. Got it. Thanks for the advice,” he said dryly.
When she hesitated, he expected her to switch topics, but she didn’t. Evidently, that call from Lori had her thinking about the fact that he was past thirty and still hadn’t remarried. “Lori’s such a good person, so supportive and friendly.”
Yeah. Whenever she wanted something…
“You don’t think the two of you could ever get back together, do you?”
“No. Never.”
She acted surprised by the absoluteness. “Wow, I never would’ve guessed you were so bitter. You seemed like such an ideal couple, and then it was over, just like that. I’m still not sure why you two broke—”
“Irreconcilable differences,” he cut in. “I’ve got to check my GPS, Mom.”
“So check it,” she said.
“My phone won’t let me talk at the same time. I’ll call you later, okay?”
“Fine,” she said with a huff. “But don’t forget to contact Lori.”
“I heard you the first time. Thanks again, Mom.” He hung up. After that little stunt, Lori could wait until he got back to California for her damn letter. He didn’t have time to pull over, whip out his laptop and do it now, anyway. According to his GPS, he’d passed Peeples Valley and was coming up on Kirkland. That meant he was only seven miles from Skull Valley, and Francesca wasn’t far behind.
What would they find when they got there? he wondered. But nothing could’ve prepared him.
8
The smell drifted all the way to the car, triggering such revulsion Francesca almost couldn’t force her legs to carry her the short distance to where she saw Finch and Hunsacker. They were with several police officers and a few other people, probably from the Yavapai County Medical Examiner’s Office, judging by the van, working outside the chocolate and gift shop. Once she did get close, she regretted it. She’d hoped to identify April from the picture she had with her; she’d wanted to know for sure that her latest missing person had been found. April’s sister, Jill Abbatiello and her husband, Vince, had been distraught ever since she didn’t report for work on Monday. Of course, murder was the worst possible outcome, but it was at least an answer, which relieved the wondering and the waiting. However, the state of the corpse made visual identification impossible.
“You okay?” Jonah asked.
She hadn’t realized that she’d crowded so close to him. Professional pride demanded she back up, tell him she was fine. But she was trying so hard not to retch that she couldn’t move or speak. Fortunately, Finch whirled around and spotted them, interrupting before her inability to react became obvious.
“What’s she doing here?” He addressed Jonah while hiking a thumb at her as though she wasn’t standing within earshot.
Francesca understood that he was angry about yesterday, but holding a grudge over a little humiliation seemed pointless. How could he worry about something so petty in light of this? Not long ago, the blob of putrefying flesh sitting on the concrete had been a living, breathing human being….
As Jonah’s eyes shifted to the victim, his nostrils flared, which told her he was struggling with what he saw, as well. Still, he kept his voice steady. “I thought she might be able to identify the deceased, but—”
“Actually, I’m glad you brought her,” Finch broke in, and nudged Francesca as he motioned to the victim. “Now this is what a corpse looks like.”
Despite the dizziness that nearly overwhelmed her, she somehow remained standing and managed to give him a dirty look as she found her voice. “No kidding.”
Hunsacker joined them. “So? Do you recognize her?”
Too preoccupied to put him in his place, even when he laughed, Francesca answered without the stinging reprisal that would’ve been part of her response on any other day. “No.”
The victim’s head looked like a jack-o’-lantern that’d softened and caved in on one side. Her right eye was missing and her nose had been so badly pummeled it resembled putty more than human flesh. The features that were still distinguishable were swollen out of all proportion