He expected her to laugh, but she refused to let him throw her off track. She’d figured out that something significant had occurred.
“That was important, huh?” She eyed his phone.
Trying once again to bury the memories conjured up by his father’s call—and the pain associated with them—he drew a deep breath. “Not really.”
Her eyebrows knotted with skepticism. “You’re full of crap. You know that?”
“That’s what I’ve been told,” he replied, and sauntered past her, chucking her on the chin as if his heart wasn’t racing like a rabbit’s.
The air-conditioning at the station was working double time to counter the heat of another one hundred and ten degree day, but Sophia was far from comfortable. She knew Detective Lindstrom would be showing up any minute. Lindstrom had called while she was at the crime scene, almost as soon as she’d hung up with the mayor, which meant she’d had two agonizing conversations in a row. Lindstrom had heard about the shooting via her police radio and was furious that Sophia hadn’t notified her. Sophia had used the excuse that she couldn’t be sure this shooting was related to the others, not until she’d had a look, but that had—understandably—done little to placate Lindstrom. By the time she arrived at the scene, there’d been nothing left except the tape that cordoned off the area and a spot of blood from the male victim’s body. Along with the limited artifacts found in the victims’ clothing, Sophia had taken the spent shell casings, and the morgue had taken the bodies. Because they were dealing with homicide victims, there’d be an autopsy, but Sophia didn’t expect it to reveal anything she didn’t already know, at least about the manner of death.
Ironing out the sheet of paper with the phone number she’d found on “José,” she picked up her phone. She needed to identify the victims so she could call the Mexican consulate and have them notify the families of the deceased. With luck, the person at this number would be able to help.
Six rings. Then a voice speaking English with a strong Mexican accent told her to leave a message.
She was about to do so, but hung up when Lindstrom slammed her way into the reception area. Sophia could hear the detective’s shrill voice, demanding Grant get Chief St. Claire immediately.
Grateful that Christina, who did the clerical work and disliked Lindstrom as much as she did, was away on vacation, Sophia got up and opened her door. “Detective Lindstrom? Would you like to step into my office?” She almost smiled at Grant’s obvious relief but the temptation disappeared the minute Lindstrom stalked past the three desks in the front lobby. Brown eyes sparking with indignation, she leaned forward as she charged ahead, reminding Sophia of a dog straining at a leash.
“What happened this morning is completely unacceptable,” she said. “Completely unacceptable.”
“So you’ve said.” Sophia told Grant to go home. It was time for him to get some rest. Then she waved Lindstrom in and motioned to a chair. “Would you like to sit down?”
“No. I still can’t believe you’d go out there without calling me. We’re supposed to be working this case together, Chief St. Claire. How can we do that if you cut me out?”
Maybe Sophia wouldn’t have tried to cut her out if she could trust her. But Lindstrom had been childhood friends with Leonard Taylor’s sister, and she’d made it clear that she didn’t think Leonard was guilty of wrongdoing. Besides that, the woman was a high-strung pain in the butt. With her red hair slicked back into an unforgiving ponytail, she even looked uptight.
“You’re a bit too intense, you know that?” She closed the door. “Any chance you could calm down?”
Lindstrom’s eyes widened despite the pull of that ponytail and her mouth opened and closed several times. “Calm down? How do you expect me to react to what you did?”
Pretty much the way she was reacting. But Sophia’s first obligation was to bring a killer to justice, and she had to protect herself and her job at the same time. As much as she wanted to believe these murders weren’t politically motivated, the possibility remained. From what she knew about Leonard and those who’d rallied around him, she wouldn’t put it past Lindstrom to “miss” some clue or sit on a piece of evidence long enough to make sure she was publicly shamed, maybe even fired, before the case was solved.
“Look, we have a job to do, so why don’t we get to it?” Sophia said.
“And forget about this morning?”
“Why not? It wasn’t that big a deal.”
“You know it was,” she said. “But you won’t have control much longer.”
Sophia straightened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The FBI is putting together a task force. They won’t tolerate anyone who plays the maverick.”
Contrary to what Lindstrom seemed to believe, Sophia welcomed the help. In fact, she’d requested it. “You think I don’t know they’re planning to get involved? I just wish they’d hurry. Because of those shake-ups in the Sierra Vista Resident Agency, they haven’t been able to get on it as quickly as I’d hoped.”
“You want their help but not mine?”
“They’re not good friends with my enemies.”
“You’re the only one who can’t leave the past where it belongs. And I’m tired of you trying to stonewall me. Sheriff Cooper will hear about this.”
“Fine. Call him right now if that’s what it’ll take to get you to focus on something else.” Sophia wasn’t too worried. She knew Cooper liked her. They’d already discussed her concerns about Dinah. He’d explained that he didn’t have anyone else he could assign right now and asked her to have patience and do the best she could. He’d also said that he, too, had contacted the FBI.
She and the detective had a stare-down. Finally Lindstrom huffed, set her bag on the floor and sank into the worn seat opposite Sophia’s desk. “What did you find this morning?”
Sophia took the brown sack containing the shell casings from her desk and handed it over.
Lindstrom opened the top and gazed down at them. “What’s with the bulge?”
“I don’t know, but a defect like that would be handy if we ever came up with the murder weapon.”
“Looks like a .45 of some sort.” There was still a sulky quality to her voice.
“I’m hoping a ballistics expert can tell us the make of the gun.”