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“Like I say, it was his mannerisms. The way he talked to me, kind of like he was my mentor. Like some kind of role model—trying to be friendly, but a little standoffish, if you know what I mean.”
Bentz shook his head. “I don’t.”
“It was as if he wanted me to think that he was on the up-and-up, even spiritual, but it seemed off to me.”
“I don’t get why that would make you think he was a priest.”
“Oh, no, no. That’s just it, I think he wasn’t a man of the cloth at all, not a priest, not a pastor, not a damned rabbi.”
“So?”
“I think he wanted me to think he was, and then I caught him sketching the sign of the cross.” CU motioned the cross over his own ample chest. “But it was real obvious, y’know, didn’t look natural, and I got the feeling he wanted me to see it. Like to convince me or something.”
“Why?”
“You tell me. He just had this little smile on his face. Serene. But fake as all shit. And ’course I couldn’t really read his expression, what he was really thinkin’, cuz I couldn’t see his eyes on accounta those shades he wore. Big. Reflective. And then he left, the same way he came, on foot. Said he was gonna call his buddy for a ride and headed off down the lane. He was gone about five minutes when I heard a car start up.”
“His friend was waiting,” Montoya said.
“Uh-uh. It was his car.”
“And you know this how?”
For the first time since they walked into his establishment, CU smiled. “Because I got it on tape.”
“Tape?”
He leaned forward, hands on his jean-clad knees. “Out here we can get some unsavory types, if you know what I mean. People think they can take advantage cuz there ain’t many people around. Think they can rip people off and no one’s the wiser. It happened to me a couple of times. Before I installed the cameras.”
Montoya couldn’t believe it.
“You have pictures of the guy?” Bentz said.
“Better than that,” CU said with a cunning smile that showed a gap between tobacco-stained teeth. “I just happened to get his vehicle in the shot, too.”
CHAPTER 17
“I’m just telling you to send me something, okay?” Zera insisted as Kristi held the phone to her ear and stared out the window of her office.
“I said I’d try.”
“I know, I know. And I wouldn’t push you, but it’s important, you know, timing is everything.”
Kristi spun her desk chair around to stare at the opposite wall. A flat screen TV was front and center, taking up wall space over a bookcase /credenza where her Wi-Fi connections, DVR, and old DVD player were positioned. Arranged on the top of the credenza was an array of her favorite pictures, framed and facing forward.
She focused on a shot of Jay she’d taken while they’d been on a trip to the Grand Canyon. Jay’s hair was caught in the breeze, his jaw covered in beard shadow as he squinted toward the lowering sun over the canyon’s rim. Her heart twisted and she suddenly realized Zera was still talking.
“—won’t take you long. I’m just asking for a few pages. That’s all I want. If the idea needs fleshing out, then we’ll do it at that point, but it’s important that we jump on this. Now. Strike while the iron’s hot, so to speak.”
A headache started to pound behind Kristi’s eyes.
Zera was still pushing Kristi for a sequel to her book on the Rosary Killer.
Kristi swiveled her chair back so she again was facing her messy desk.
“Look,” Zera said, “I’ve got a couple of editors who are asking and I’ve heard through the grapevine that there are other authors who are interested in writing the story, who are already submitting proposals.”
“Let me guess,” Kristi said without much enthusiasm. “Drake Dennison.”
