The Sun Down Motel(73)

But she had to wait. She chewed her lip and tried not to jiggle her knee in impatience as Alma read her notes.

“Okay, wait,” Alma said, pointing to a page. “What’s this about Cathy Caldwell and door locks?”

“Cathy and her husband bought door locks before she died. From a door-to-door salesman.”

Alma looked up, her face pale. “You can verify this?”

“I don’t know the exact date, but Cathy’s mother remembers it. The locks were bought from Westlake Lock Systems.” She reached over the desk and turned the page. “Westlake Lock Systems also had a salesman scheduled on Peacemaker Avenue, which is Victoria Lee’s street. He was scheduled to make calls there in August of last year.”

“This can’t be,” Alma said, almost to herself. “It isn’t possible.”

“It’s very possible,” Viv said, trying not to sound impatient. “When I asked the Westlake scheduling service what the salesman’s name was, she said it had been erased from the scheduling book. He’s covering his tracks. That means he knows there’s at least a possibility that someone is onto him.”

“A line erased from a scheduling book doesn’t mean anything,” Alma said, but the no-nonsense confidence was gone from her voice. She was almost whispering. “It could be a random mistake.”

“But matched with everything else, it isn’t,” Viv said. “I’ve connected him to Cathy and Victoria for you. We already know that Betty saw a traveling salesman before she died. I can only get so much information by myself, but I bet if you requested all of Westlake’s records, you could find something I couldn’t. The connection between Betty and Simon Hess.”

Alma was staring at her. “You’ve done a lot of work on this,” she said. “Dozens of hours.”

Viv shrugged. “I thought about applying for a job in Westlake’s scheduling department to get access to the book, but it would take too long and it would be too risky. They might put me in another department. Plus I’d actually have to work there all day when I have other things to do. So I can’t get full access to the books on my own, and there are only so many times I can phone them, pretending I’m you.”

“You did what?”

“It isn’t important.”

“It’s important,” Alma said. “Vivian, it’s illegal to impersonate a police officer.”

Viv wanted to scream. “Simon Hess killed Victoria Lee, and her boyfriend was put away for it. And you’re going to put me in jail?”

Alma held up a hand. “Back up here,” she said. The firmness was back in her voice, as if she was getting control of the situation. “I took a look at the Betty Graham file after the last time we talked. And one of your premises here is actually wrong. Since Betty was last seen letting a salesman into her house, there was a thorough investigation done into every company that employs door-to-door salesmen. They couldn’t find any company that had a salesman in the area.”

Viv felt her pulse pound. She was so frustrated, so angry. She didn’t know that. She didn’t know anything, because she didn’t have the access to what she needed to put all the pieces together. She was just a twenty-year-old motel clerk. If only she could see everything she needed.

But she thought it over and shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Vivian, please. I’m trying to work with you here. But with no salesman in Betty’s neighborhood that day, it means that whoever killed her came to her door pretending to be a salesman. Which puts you back to square one.”

“No, it doesn’t. Did they look at the month before the murder? Two months before? The woman in the scheduling department told me that sometimes the salesmen go back for follow-up visits on their own, and those visits aren’t recorded in the schedule book. He could have seen her earlier and gone back.”

Alma looked shocked again. “They said that?”

“Even if he didn’t sell her locks,” Viv continued, “Betty was a teacher. Simon Hess has a daughter who is about ten. Maybe his daughter goes to Betty’s school—but I can’t access the school records. You can. He lives ten minutes away from Betty’s house. He could have seen her in the market, the park. Anywhere.” She pointed to the book. “You have his name. You can find the connection. I can’t.”

Alma frowned. She still wasn’t sold; Viv could tell. She had no idea what else to do, what else to say.

“This is all based on the idea that this man, Simon Hess, checks into the motel where Betty’s body was dumped,” Alma said. “That doesn’t make him Betty’s killer, especially if he isn’t the salesman who came to her house.” She gestured to the notebook, the motel photos from Marnie, other papers Viv had brought. “You’ve done amazing work here, Vivian. You could be an investigator. But I’m just the night duty officer, and you’re just a motel clerk. If I am going to the higher-ups with a killer this dangerous, like Fell has never seen, I need something so concrete it can’t be argued.”

Viv swallowed. She looked at the desk, at the papers and photos scattered there, her eyes burning.

“This is compelling,” Alma admitted in her kinder voice. “But it’s also full of holes. Big ones. Any case I take up the ladder has to be airtight. Completely airtight. I’m already no one on this force. Not a single one of these guys will take me seriously. It’ll be an uphill battle before I even open my mouth, and if I fail, I’ll probably lose my job. They’re just looking for a reason.”