Disorderly Conduct. Mary Feliz
back and prepared to stand and join Max at the door. But before I could do that, he came through the archway that separated the hallway from the kitchen. A Santa Clara County sheriff, hat in hand, followed closely on his heels.
“Please, sit down,” he said. When my husband had taken his seat and grasped my hand under the table, the sheriff spoke. “I’m Sergeant Thanh Nguyen, from the investigative division of the Santa Clara County Sheriff’s Office.” He stood formally, with his feet shoulder width apart, his back straight. One hand was poised ominously close to his firearm, while the other gripped his olive-green Smokey Bear–style hat. Khaki stripes down the sides of his uniform trousers made Sergeant Nguyen look taller than he probably was.
His voice was soft, but firm, and commanded attention. Rationally, I assumed he was here to update us with news of the investigation into Patrick’s death, and possibly to report on firefighting efforts. But my lizard brain was trying desperately to convince me to flee from a danger and tension in the air that I could feel but couldn’t see. And I wasn’t the only one who felt threatened by Sergeant Nguyen’s arrival. Teddy was biting his lip and staring at his mom in panic. Tess’s hands clasped each other with white knuckles. Max might have appeared calm to a stranger, but he had a death grip on my hand that was more frightening than it was reassuring.
Jason stepped forward to shake the sheriff’s hand. “I’m Jason Mueller, chief of police here in Orchard View. What can you tell us?”
Jason’s presence and warm greeting seemed to have set Sergeant Nguyen slightly off balance. A bead of sweat appeared on his forehead. What on earth could be making him so nervous? This family and our community had already received the worst possible news. Surely anything he had to say would pale in comparison.
Sergeant Nguyen took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Mrs. Teresa Olmos,” he said slowly, “we have a warrant to arrest you for the murder of your husband, Patrick Teodoro Olmos.” He stepped back and waved two young deputy cadets forward. One pulled handcuffs from the back of his duty belt, while the other read Tess her Miranda rights.
Chapter 9
If these preparations sound daunting, consider taking advantage of the emergency kits sold and prepared by many community groups as fund-raisers. The kits range in size and price from a personal first aid kit to all the supplies a family of four would need for a week.
From the Notebook of Maggie McDonald
Simplicity Itself Organizing Services
Monday, August 7, Morning
Jason stepped between Tess and the deputies. Teddy grabbed his mother’s hand. She put her arm around him and kissed his head. “It’ll be okay, buddy,” she said. Teddy’s expression said he knew that the bottom had fallen out of his world again. With each blow, he was becoming less successful in rebuilding a firm foundation on which to stand—that platform that everyone needs, but that is truly essential to teens trying to discover who they are and how they’ll navigate the adult world. I nodded to Tess and Teddy. Max and I would protect Teddy—feed him, nurture him, and protect him to the best of our ability for as long as it was necessary. Because that’s what friends did. I reached for my phone to call Forrest Doucett.
Tess lifted her chin and squared her shoulders like a proud French aristocrat on her way to the guillotine.
Jason held his arm out, palm down, toward the nearest cadet. It reminded me of the way I’d approach a dog while trying not to spook it. He shifted his attention to Sergeant Nguyen. “Are you actually arresting her, or just inviting her to come in for questioning?” Jason asked in a gentle but firm voice. “What is the charge? Can you please show us the warrant?”
Nguyen reached inside his jacket and pulled out several folded documents, which he then handed to Jason. “Arrest warrant, search warrant, affidavits, and a list of items we’re looking for, including handguns.” Jason examined them quickly, then handed them to me. “They look in order, but snap a photo of them and send them to Forrest.”
“Guns? But why?” I asked.
“It’s in the warrant,” said Nguyen, stepping forward until he was nearly toe to toe with Jason, as if daring him to do...something. It was a classic display of men squaring off and taking each other’s measure. Tension rose, and I feared that the tiniest movement on anyone’s part would land us in more trouble than we already faced. I held my breath.
Jason stared at the sergeant, but continued to speak so softly that, had the room not been so deathly quiet, or if I hadn’t already had a good idea of what he had to say, his words would have been inaudible to anyone other than Nguyen. “The cuffs won’t be necessary. Mrs. Olmos is happy to cooperate. I’d be pleased to bring her to the district attorney’s office or wherever it is you intend to question her.” He paused. “I know you have the paperwork required to arrest Mrs. Olmos, but I assume you’ll want to search the house while she’s here and question her to see if her statement proves more reliable than that of any other witnesses you’ve interviewed.”
“Witnesses?” I must have spoken too loudly, because Tess startled and everyone else stared at me with varied degrees of astonishment. “How can there be witnesses? Tess didn’t do anything. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.” I sucked in a deep breath and forced myself to close my mouth and stop talking. As much as I wanted to defend my friend, I was upsetting Tess and Teddy, and that was the last thing I wanted to do.
Nguyen sighed, then nodded, first to Jason and then to his men, each of whom took several steps backward until they stood behind their boss. “Chief, as a courtesy to you, I would be happy to question Mrs. Olmos before we take her to the jail. Is there somewhere we can talk without interruption?”
“I’m sure we can set you up with a room here from which you can conduct your interviews and supervise the search for the items named in the warrant,” Jason said. “Mrs. Olmos will want to wait for her lawyer, so that will give us plenty of time to create an interview situation that works for everyone.”
I stepped into the living room as I selected Forrest’s office number from my contact list. I hoped I’d find him in his Orchard View location—a high-rise upscale business suite he’d recently opened as a satellite to the firm’s headquarters near AT&T Park in San Francisco. He’d joked that he needed the new location to be closer to our family and friends, making it easier to respond to my “constant calls” for help. I suspected the real reason was that the bulk of the firm’s business was connected in one way or another to Silicon Valley commerce. Forrest had once told me he spent as much or more time arguing cases in San Jose as he did in San Francisco.
The call connected, and I briefly explained to the receptionist that I was a friend and a client of Forrest’s, and that I needed help for another friend who was being arrested for murder. The words seemed as foreign as if I’d suddenly begun speaking a language I’d never studied, but they didn’t seem to faze the receptionist. “Please tell him there’s been a new development,” I added.
He transferred me to Forrest’s office, where an automated system invited me to leave a message. “Forrest, the Santa Clara County sheriff has a warrant for Tess Olmos’s arrest and paperwork to search her home and garage for firearms and a number of other items. Everything is happening quickly, so we need you or one of your colleagues here as soon as possible. It looks like Jason has convinced Sergeant Nguyen to question Tess here at the house and hold off on arresting her. I doubt Jason will let Tess answer any questions until you get here. I took photos of the warrants and the other forms Nguyen gave to Tess. I’ll send them to your personal phone.”
Forrest responded with a quick text before I’d finished sending the documents.
In town. On my way.
I took a minute to breathe deeply and think about what I needed to do when I walked back into the kitchen. The most important thing was to project confidence. The boys needed to know that the adults had the situation in hand and that there was nothing to worry about.
I heard a vehicle pull up outside and peered through a gap in the living room drapes. Forrest hopped out of the cab