Sophia understood, but it was difficult not to try and comfort him. Knowing she’d be rebuffed was all that stopped her. “You okay?” she asked, in spite of herself.
His manner remained aloof, his eyes flat when they shifted to her face, nothing like the eyes he’d turned on her yesterday. And that stony look was the only response he gave her.
“Okay,” she said. “Good to know.”
Another mile passed before he spoke. “Who would do this? You’ve been here your whole life. What enemies did Stuart have?”
She couldn’t name any. He was popular among single men because he was a frequent visitor at the Firelight and bought them a lot of drinks. He had a Harley and occasionally rode with Starkey and his friends, so he blended with a variety of groups, even the Hells Angels. He was just as popular among single women because he was considered a “catch.” Even married couples and families seemed to like him, mostly because of Bruce’s and Edna’s standing in the community, but that borrowed respectability hadn’t been difficult for him to maintain. He wasn’t a nuisance to anyone except her. He used to call and ask her out much more often than she wanted to hear from him, and it became awkward to keep refusing him. But…
She couldn’t imagine anyone wanting him dead.
“It might not have been an enemy. Maybe he was killed because he saw something he shouldn’t have,” she said.
“You think he witnessed the UDA killer?”
“The shell casings, if they’re there, or the bullet, if it’s recoverable, should tell us more. But it’s entirely possible that there’s a connection between the two. He died the same way as the illegals, right? By gunshot. His body was discovered on the Simpsons’ ranch, out in the desert—a similar setting to where the UDAs were killed. And if he’s the one who trashed your motel room, he was okay midevening, which means he died after that. Murder in the middle of the night is also typical of the UDA killer’s work.” She glanced at him again. “Besides, Bordertown has only had one other murder in the past ten years, and even that was a domestic dispute. Nothing like this, ever. How many killers do you think we have running around here?”
“But we haven’t heard of any other murders occurring last night,” he said. “What could Stuart have seen?”
“Maybe the UDA killer shot some Mexicans first and their bodies haven’t been discovered. Or he interrupted a murder attempt and the illegals got away.”
There was a call on her radio—Officer Fitzer.
She removed the handset and pressed the button. “What do you have for me, Joe?”
“Just wanted to let you know that the ballistics report you’ve been waiting for came in.”
Sophia could feel Rod’s interest spike along with her own. “What does it say?”
“The casings you found at the Sanchez murders match the bullet lodged in the spine of victim number three, the unidentified male at the very first crime scene.”
That was good. That tied the murders together forensically—important if it ever came to prosecuting a defendant. But it didn’t bring her any closer to naming a suspect.
“Any word on the type of gun?”
“Yeah. Pretty specific, actually. Hang on, I’ll read you part of the report.”
She heard some paper shuffling as Joe searched for what he wanted to share with her. “‘Bulge in the web area…very distinctive…have seen this one before…’” He cleared his throat. “Here we go.” He began to read. “‘This type of deformity most often occurs in .40/10 mm and .45-caliber Glock pistols with higher than normal pressure ammunition, poor quality brass, or both.’”
“So the killer’s using a .45 Glock pistol and some cheap ammo.”
“Says here the ammo might’ve been reloaded or re-manufactured.”
Sophia wasn’t convinced that really meant anything. Could be. Might’ve been. Maybe it was just a bad box of ammo. “Have we heard anything from the coroner’s office about when the Sanchez autopsies will be done?” Among other things, she needed to know if they’d be able to recover any bullets from the bodies.
“Not yet. Vonnegut’s had the flu, at least that’s what my mother told me. She’s good friends with his wife.”
“Will you call over there and find out? The flu doesn’t usually last for days.”
“Will do.”
“Thanks, Joe.”
She was about to hang up when he spoke again. “One more thing, Chief.”
“What is it?”
“Detective Lindstrom stopped by a few minutes ago.”
Sophia recalled Lindstrom’s anger at the FBI meeting yesterday. The detective wasn’t even making an effort to be civil anymore. Learning about that cigarette butt, and believing Sophia had purposely withheld the information regarding it, had proven to be the point where subtle signs of dislike and resentment transformed into outright hostility. “Did you tell her about Stuart Dunlap?”
“I didn’t. I wasn’t sure if you wanted her to know.”
At least her staff was loyal. At this point, they felt like the only ones who were willing to stick by her. “Thanks. I’ll give her a call.”
“She said something that struck me as odd,” he said.
“What?”
“It wasn’t to me. She got a call on her cell phone while I was making her a copy of the ballistics report. I have no idea who she was talking to, but she said, ‘I’m meeting Stuart for breakfast at Bailey’s. I’ll let you know what I find out after we’re through.’”
“Stuart,” she repeated.
“That’s right. Since I’d received the call about Stuart Dunlap’s death only a few minutes before she walked in, the name jumped out at me. You don’t suppose she meant him, do you?”
“It’s possible she knows some other Stuart.” But Bailey’s was a local restaurant. Sophia doubted there was another eating establishment with the same name in all of southern Arizona. And Stuart Dunlap was the only Stuart in Bordertown. “She say anything else?”
“Nope. She started to whisper as if she was afraid I was listening in, then said she had to go. That’s it. It may be nothing, but…I don’t know. It felt funny.”
Sophia could see why. As far as she was aware, Stuart and Lindstrom didn’t know each other. Lindstrom was at least six years older than he was, so even when she’d lived in Bordertown and attended Bordertown High they wouldn’t have gone to school together. What business could she and Stuart have had together? How had their paths crossed? “This just happened, Joe?”