A String of Beads (Jane Whitefield, #8)(69)

Ellen enveloped her in a hug that reminded her of the hugs she had received as a child, a strong and protective embrace that seemed to cover her entirely for a moment. Ellen released her, reached into the pocket of her jeans, and pulled out two soft deer-leather pouches. “Take this tobacco. One is for Jimmy, and the other for you. It wouldn’t hurt to toss a little on the road before you go.”

“Thank you,” said Jane. She took them, went out the door and into the night. Somehow the night felt a little different from the way it had before. Now the darkness was a covering, a thing that had protected her in the past, and was protecting her again. She reached Ray Snow’s Volkswagen Passat and remembered what Ellen had said. She sprinkled a pinch on each of the car’s tires, and then tossed another into the air above the road in front of the Passat. “It’s me,” she said. “Onyo:ah. You know what I’m trying to do. Thanks for letting Jimmy and me get this far alive.”





17



The next morning Jane drove to a shopping mall in Batavia and parked near the street far from the stores, where mall security cameras might pick her up. She dialed the cell phone number of her old college friend Allison.

“Hello?” Jane could hear the familiar melodious voice, almost see the blond hair and the long, graceful neck. Allison didn’t look or sound like a trial lawyer.

“Hi, Allison. It’s me.”

“I didn’t expect to hear your voice. I see you have another new number.”

“Nearly every week.”

“I suppose that makes sense. If this is your phone call to your attorney, tell me where they’re holding you. They don’t have to let these calls go on and—”

“It’s not,” Jane interrupted. “I’m not the one in trouble.”

“That’s a relief,” said Allison. “Who is?”

“A guy I grew up with. He’s an Indian like me.”

“If he got caught, he’s not much like you. What’s his name?”

“James Sanders. Goes by Jimmy. About two months ago a drunk took a swing at him in a bar in Akron, New York. He dropped the drunk and went home. The police got a complaint from the drunk, whose name was Nick Bauermeister, and arrested Jimmy. No big deal, until about a month later, when Bauermeister was murdered. He was shot with a rifle through the front window of his house.”

“What’s the evidence against your friend?”

“A man came forward to tell the police he’d had a garage sale and sold Jimmy a rifle of the right caliber and some ammo before the murder.”

“A selfless act, since he was admitting to an illegal transaction. He sold it to Jimmy, not just to some guy who looked a bit like him?”

“He supposedly picked Jimmy’s picture out of a stack and said he was the one. I went to see who this witness was last night and noticed he has a brand-new Porsche, a new Jet Ski, and a giant new television set. His house is a teardown, but he seems to have had a shot of money recently.”

“What’s the victim’s name again?”

“Nick Bauermeister. I guess that’s probably Nicholas.”

“Got it. And where are they holding your friend Jimmy?”

“They’re not. They’re hunting for him.”

“Here we go again. You’re hiding him. I’ll need to talk to him before he turns himself in.”

“I’ll arrange that when I can. Should I keep using this number?”

“Yes. Can’t you bring him to see me, or take me to him?”

“I’m sorry, Allison. The problem is that he can’t turn himself in just yet. There are people trying to kill him. I don’t know who they are yet, but I’ve actually seen some of them. And I have reliable information that there are also some who have gotten themselves sent to jail to wait for him.”

Allison sighed. “I knew this couldn’t be a simple case of getting a false charge dismissed.”

“No,” Jane said. “And this time it’s not me just asking for a quick favor. It’s a real case, and I expect to pay your exorbitant fees, including the billable time for this call. If I know you, it’ll be the best money I ever spent.”

“We’ll talk money later,” said Allison.

“As long as you don’t try to weasel out of your paycheck when the time comes.”

“Can I get Karen Alvarez involved in this? She’s great on murder.”

“I’d love to have her. She knows how to keep a secret.”

“That and obfuscate. It’s what we do all day. Let me start nosing around this case without letting anybody know I’ve been retained and see what I can find out, and what ideas Karen has. Did you say the murder was in Akron? Is that Monroe County?”

“The murder was in Avon. That’s in Erie County.”

“Okay. Anything else?”

“Thanks, Allison. And give my regards to Karen.”

“I’m about to go down to her office now. Go do whatever it is you need to do. If anything goes wrong, call me and I’ll be there as soon as I can to bail you out.”

“What could go wrong?”

“Just make sure he has my number and knows enough to tell the police he won’t talk until I get there.”