Sapphire Nights (Crystal Magic Book 1)(83)
And he did, sort of. He understood they were two very different people, with different life experiences, different needs. He brushed aside the dangling curl and kissed her cheek. “See you when I see you then.”
He skipped Dinah’s and drove down the mountain to change clothes and check in for role call. The routine was starting to irritate, but he needed legal power to question people like the Kennedys. His usual work didn’t include active criminal investigations, until he uncovered a crime. Then he handed the case over to the authorities. He was enjoying having the ability to follow through on the cases, but he disliked the bureaucracy. Or maybe he just disliked not being his own boss.
In a fresh uniform, Walker reported in at the office and went over the files. The blood analysis on Xavier was still incomplete, although the hospital’s staff had concluded an overdose of cocaine. Not knowing Xavier’s drug of choice, he couldn’t reach a conclusion.
The ballistics report on the gun from the Kennedy vault had proven it was the weapon used on Juan. Muttering a curse under his breath, Walker looked over the fingerprint report again—too many smudges and attempts to wipe it clean. Traces that matched those in Carmel’s bedroom, partials from Francois, but also some identified from Geoffrey Kennedy’s old files, and even one from a maid who had probably picked it up to dust under it. It was practically a public gun.
He read through the homicide team’s notes. Francois claimed he’d never touched the gun. He’d lied, since they’d found a partial of his prints on it.
Walker needed more information on the Kennedys’ driver, as well as names of people who’d worked with Geoff Kennedy, the bank, and the mortgage company from twenty years ago—although that wasn’t part of the sheriff’s investigation.
He gave the detective a head’s up about Francois, then called Sofia to start digging into mortgage and bank employees from twenty years ago. He was getting a jumpy feeling that he was leaving Sam alone too long.
No one had attempted to harm Sam or Valdis yet, but Walker had a nasty fear that their land had a part in whatever was happening up there. Maybe that’s what Valdis was ranting about—she believed that land ownership was somehow dangerous.
Nah, that was too rational for the old witch.
He stopped at the Baskerville hospital where both Xavier and Valdis were patients.
As he drove his official vehicle into the lot and hunted a parking space, he noted Alan Gump of the garish blond hair and bespoke suits climbing into a Lamborghini. Real estate moguls had to stand out in a crowd, Walker supposed, but flashing that much wealth in a district predominantly occupied by people barely scraping a living seemed. . . offensive.
He rolled his eyes. That was his mother’s voice in his head, nattering about the evils of flashing wealth to impress. He was spending too much time with the tree-hugging Lucys.
Walker checked on Xavier first, but he’d been moved to a drug rehab facility in Monterey. Damn.
He would compile a list of questions and see if one of his men could get in to see the old goat.
Then he stopped in to visit Valdis. She was hooked up to an IV and despite the scar, looking almost healthy without the grim black clothing. Tullah, the tall elegant woman from the thrift shop, and Amber, the tarot reader, were already there, shaking out clean dresses—all black—apparently for Valdis to choose from. Walker grimaced and almost turned around rather than face a room full of Lucys.
But he gritted his teeth and entered. All three women looked at him as if they were ready for him to be gone before he even spoke a word.
After exchanging pleasantries and learning that Valdis would be released soon and had a ride home, Walker attempted to at least get in one formal question. “How much do any of you know about Francois?”
“He’s a slimy creep who would sell his soul for cash or drugs,” Tullah said without hesitation. “But only if it meant he didn’t have to lift a hand or do more than exist.”
Walker quirked an eyebrow. “Not many people turn over cash or drugs for nothing.”
Looking like a warm cuddly teddy bear, Amber snapped a short-sleeved dress with unusual ferocity to shake out wrinkles. She began folding it away, leaving a trailing long skirt of black gauze across the bed. “She means he’s a snitch,” she said in disdain. “Give him a toke, and he’ll tell you anything.”
Valdis picked anxiously at the black gauze and didn’t look him in the eyes. “He spies for Carmel,” she whispered. “He worships her.”
“But he wouldn’t kill for her?” Walker asked, ugly suspicion rising.
All three women looked uncertain.
Oh, crap. Would Carmel order a security guard killed? Why?
Chapter 27
Despite the lingering smell of smoke, Sam happily transplanted salvia and sage from the ghost garden to a sunny spot beside the town hall. The small wooden building was at the end of the row of shops. The town could easily expand the land around it into a park, if her Uncle Montgomery gave up his private parking spot and driveway in back. She envisioned benches and a fountain—tile or stone?—and pebble paths surrounding beds of flowers that bloomed all year around.
She thought best with her hands in dirt. She wondered if she could obtain a grant to study the earthquake fault and how it might affect the aquifer. Having grown up on a farm in a small rural area, she didn’t miss the city lights. Although fitting in had always been a problem for her. She knew where she belonged at the university. Here. . . She had no idea where she stood.