was still dealing while a patient at the recovery center?"
"As I said, that was only a rumor. I'd take it with a grain of salt if I were you."
"Why?"
"I'm telling you, Joey Rothman was a braggart. He thrived on attention. Bad attention, good attention, it was all the same to him. Joey knew I was a cop. I wouldn't be surprised if he started that rumor himself just to see if I'd try to do anything about it."
"Did you?"
"I ignored him as much as possible. I'm not here dropping a grand and a half a week to play games of cops and robbers with some young twerp. Joey and I shared the same cabin, but that's as far as it went. I kept away from him except when absolutely necessary."
"What happened last night? I understand from one or two people I've talked to that there was some kind of problem in the dining room just before your family went back into town to their motel."
That was a lie. The detective hadn't talked to one or two people to get that piece of information. She had only talked to one—Louise Crenshaw herself. I remembered the disapproving glare Louise had leveled at me as she walked by Kelly and me just when our battle over Joey Rothman was reaching fever pitch.
"He was messing around with my daughter. Kelly's only seventeen. He was leading her on when he'd already—"
I broke off, but too late. Detective Reyes-Gonzales was on point. "When he'd already what?" she asked sharply.
Lamely I shrugged my shoulders. "I suppose by now you know all about Michelle Owens."
"What do you know about Michelle Owens?" Detective Reyes-Gonzales returned.
"That she's pregnant and claims Joey Rothman is the father."
"And how do you know so much about it? Did Joey tell you?"
"Are you kidding? Of course not. I talked to Guy Ownes, Michelle's father."
"After he got the results back from the doctor?"
Clearly, Detective Reyes-Gonzales had already done a considerable amount of homework among the players.
"Yes," I answered. "After he got the results."
"Where?"
"Where what?"
"Where did you talk to him?"
"At the cabin. Joey's and my cabin. Guy came there looking for Joey."
"When?"
"Last night."
"After lights-out?"
"Yes."
"What time did he leave?"
"I don't know. It must have been around midnight. Maybe a little later."
"And then what happened?"
"I kept waiting for Joey to come in, but I must have fallen asleep. When I woke up around four-thirty, that's when I discovered the car keys were missing."
"And?" she prompted.
"I went up to the parking lot, expecting the car to be gone, but it wasn't. It was parked right where it is now. The keys were in the ignition."
"You should have turned your gun in to the treatment center when you checked into Ironwood Ranch four weeks ago. It shouldn't have been left in the vehicle."
Detective Reyes-Gonzales was no longer smiling. Deputy Hanson had already told her about the Smith and Wesson in the glove box, and her understated reprimand was well deserved.
"I know. I've been telling myself the same thing over and over all morning long. I just didn't, that's all. No good reason for it either except that we've been through the wars together, that .38 and I. Maybe I'm paranoid. I don't feel comfortable if I can't get to it if I want to. If I need to. You know how it is."
From the level, detached look she gave me, I wasn't at all sure Detective Reyes-Gonzales did know how it was. Maybe female cops don't have the same kind of meaningful relationship with their weapons that male cops do. Maybe they don't have to.
There was a sharp rap on the door behind me. "Come in," she called.
The door opened to reveal Deputy Mike Hanson standing outside, waiting anxiously for the door to open. "Excuse me, Delcy, but could I have a word with you?"
Detective Reyes-Gonzales stood up. "Do you mind?" she asked.
"Not at all. Go right ahead."
She stepped outside and closed the door. For several moments I could hear them speaking urgently back and forth. When she came back into the room, Delcia
"As I said, that was only a rumor. I'd take it with a grain of salt if I were you."
"Why?"
"I'm telling you, Joey Rothman was a braggart. He thrived on attention. Bad attention, good attention, it was all the same to him. Joey knew I was a cop. I wouldn't be surprised if he started that rumor himself just to see if I'd try to do anything about it."
"Did you?"
"I ignored him as much as possible. I'm not here dropping a grand and a half a week to play games of cops and robbers with some young twerp. Joey and I shared the same cabin, but that's as far as it went. I kept away from him except when absolutely necessary."
"What happened last night? I understand from one or two people I've talked to that there was some kind of problem in the dining room just before your family went back into town to their motel."
That was a lie. The detective hadn't talked to one or two people to get that piece of information. She had only talked to one—Louise Crenshaw herself. I remembered the disapproving glare Louise had leveled at me as she walked by Kelly and me just when our battle over Joey Rothman was reaching fever pitch.
"He was messing around with my daughter. Kelly's only seventeen. He was leading her on when he'd already—"
I broke off, but too late. Detective Reyes-Gonzales was on point. "When he'd already what?" she asked sharply.
Lamely I shrugged my shoulders. "I suppose by now you know all about Michelle Owens."
"What do you know about Michelle Owens?" Detective Reyes-Gonzales returned.
"That she's pregnant and claims Joey Rothman is the father."
"And how do you know so much about it? Did Joey tell you?"
"Are you kidding? Of course not. I talked to Guy Ownes, Michelle's father."
"After he got the results back from the doctor?"
Clearly, Detective Reyes-Gonzales had already done a considerable amount of homework among the players.
"Yes," I answered. "After he got the results."
"Where?"
"Where what?"
"Where did you talk to him?"
"At the cabin. Joey's and my cabin. Guy came there looking for Joey."
"When?"
"Last night."
"After lights-out?"
"Yes."
"What time did he leave?"
"I don't know. It must have been around midnight. Maybe a little later."
"And then what happened?"
"I kept waiting for Joey to come in, but I must have fallen asleep. When I woke up around four-thirty, that's when I discovered the car keys were missing."
"And?" she prompted.
"I went up to the parking lot, expecting the car to be gone, but it wasn't. It was parked right where it is now. The keys were in the ignition."
"You should have turned your gun in to the treatment center when you checked into Ironwood Ranch four weeks ago. It shouldn't have been left in the vehicle."
Detective Reyes-Gonzales was no longer smiling. Deputy Hanson had already told her about the Smith and Wesson in the glove box, and her understated reprimand was well deserved.
"I know. I've been telling myself the same thing over and over all morning long. I just didn't, that's all. No good reason for it either except that we've been through the wars together, that .38 and I. Maybe I'm paranoid. I don't feel comfortable if I can't get to it if I want to. If I need to. You know how it is."
From the level, detached look she gave me, I wasn't at all sure Detective Reyes-Gonzales did know how it was. Maybe female cops don't have the same kind of meaningful relationship with their weapons that male cops do. Maybe they don't have to.
There was a sharp rap on the door behind me. "Come in," she called.
The door opened to reveal Deputy Mike Hanson standing outside, waiting anxiously for the door to open. "Excuse me, Delcy, but could I have a word with you?"
Detective Reyes-Gonzales stood up. "Do you mind?" she asked.
"Not at all. Go right ahead."
She stepped outside and closed the door. For several moments I could hear them speaking urgently back and forth. When she came back into the room, Delcia
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