AllFreeNovel
Share Us
We both noticed Lindsey standing behind him. Davidson turned suddenly crimson. “Pardon my language,” he said, and excused himself. Davidson was at least ten years older than me, in a generation of male cops that had been forced to accept women colleagues. But some still held these quaint taboos and social customs from an earlier time. In the right setting, it was kind of endearing.
Lindsey cocked an eyebrow. “We should all avoid little pricks, Sheriff.”
“You are so bad.” I looked at her straight on. She was in civilian clothes, a white, oxford-y blouse, short black skirt, sheer black stockings, black shoes with thick heels. She loved her monochromes, and with her hair and coloring it worked to stunning effect. I said what I thought: “Will you marry me? My God, you are beautiful.”
She smiled. “I’m glad you think so.” She reached down and scratched my shoulder. “You’re pretty sexy in uniform, Dave. This is a part of you I’ve rarely seen.”
I told her about the press briefing.
She leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Sometime you’ll have to wear your uniform at home, give me the discipline I need, Sheriff.” Her soft hair ran across my neck and face. I was instantly hard. Right there in Central Records.
“You’re blushing, Dave,” she said. “I thought all you guys who came of age in the seventies had no inhibitions.”
“I’m not blushing.” I said, feeling the heat running out into my face.
“Who’s that?” She put a long finger on the mugshot of Leo O’Keefe.
“He doesn’t look like a cop killer,” she said after I told her. “Just looks like a kid.” She pulled up a chair next to me and sat, crossing her fine dark-stockinged legs. “Now these guys.” She reached over to the prison photos of McGovern and Meadows. “You can see the sociopath in their eyes. But this kid, what was he doing out with the other two?”
“He was this one’s cousin,” I tapped McGovern’s surly face. “He and his girlfriend Marybeth somehow hooked up with them.”
Lindsey bit her lower lip. “What a mess. Could those kids have even done anything to stop the shooting?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I was trying to find their statements to refresh my memory. But a lot of the deputies thought they got off too easy, probation for her and a year for O’Keefe. But he’s a loser. Iced a guy in prison and they tacked life onto his sentence.”
She rubbed her hand over my back. “Oh, Dave, you’re not that hard. You know how bad luck comes to people.”
I nodded, felt a pang of something like compassion, and put my hand on her thigh. Right there in Central Records.
Lindsey said, “But if he tries to hurt you, I’ll put a nice tight pattern of hollow-point ammunition in his chest, reload, shoot him again, and then read him his rights.
“I’m actually here on a mission, Dave.” she went on, absently picking through the files. “You asked about Camelback Falls.”
“Yes.” I lowered my voice. “It was the notation in Peralta’s calendar.”
“Camelback Falls was the name of a house,” she said. “It’s still there, actually. On the south face of the mountain. Anyway, does the name Jonathan Ledger mean anything to you?”
“The sex guy?” I asked.
“You are the sex guy,” she whispered as I stroked her leg. “Dave, let me concentrate. Yes, Ledger wrote The Sex Instructions and More Sex Instructions. Best-sellers, as you know. Not that I’ve ever read them. He owned the house until his death in 1989. He called it Camelback Falls. Maybe it was some wordplay on Falling Water.”
“Who owns the house now?” I asked.
“Some rich guy who lives in North Carolina. The house has changed hands five times since Ledger died. The current owner is trying to get a permit to demolish it and build something grander. But the house hasn’t been called Camelback Falls since Ledger. When I called the Realtor today she didn’t even know that was what it was called.”
I sat back in the chair. Now I was more baffled than ever. What could Peralta have wanted to know from me about Jonathan Ledger’s house on Camelback Mountain?
“Thanks, beautiful,” I said. “You’re pretty smart for a propeller head.”
She licked her lips, “What are you doing for lunch, Sheriff?”
“Media briefing,” I said sadly. “But afterward…”
“Actually,” she said, “I have another mission. I’m going to the briefing, too. That’s why I’m kind of preppy-looking today, and I know that look really turns you on, Dave. But I am your new bodyguard.”
“I work alone, ma’am,” I said, deepening my voice. “Anyway, the cyber-terrorists of the world won’t take a holiday while you baby-sit me.”
“Sorry, Dave. You have to be accompanied by a deputy from now on. It’s new policy. So you can have me, or some knuckle-dragger from the patrol bureau. Kimbrough is getting very ticked off that you’re just wandering around unprotected. And so am I.” She sat back, luminous, smiling, proud of herself.
