He identified himself and asked for Hancock.

“I’m sorry. He’s not in today. Can I take a message?”

“Do you know when he’ll get it?”

“I’m sure he’ll call in during the day.”

Donnally looked toward the house. Navarro was on his cell phone and staring into the living room, watching Camacho.

Donnally gave her his number and told her it was urgent, that someone might be aiming to harm Hancock.

She didn’t seem to react to the news. Donnally had the feeling that she’d heard threats before. He suspected if he’d called Jackson a month earlier to report that there were threats made against Hamlin, she would have reacted the same.

Donnally thought of a way to get her to take this one more seriously.

“If you have any doubts about me or what I’m saying, do a search of my name on the Internet. Check the San Francisco Chronicle.”

He listened to light tapping in the background, then, “Oh, I see.”

“To verify it’s me on the phone, call the San Francisco Police Department and ask to be patched through to homicide detective Ramon Navarro.”

Donnally glanced toward Navarro. He was leaning against the doorjamb, arms folded across his chest. Donnally heard her disconnect.

Navarro reached for his phone a minute later, answered, and glanced toward Donnally.

Donnally nodded. Navarro passed on Donnally’s number. His phone rang fifteen seconds later.

“I’ll call his cell and his house so he’ll know who you are,” she said, then gave him the numbers.

“And if a woman named Ryvver calls,” Donnally said, “I want to hear from you right away.”

“But she’s already called. Twice in the last few days. She said she wanted him to represent her in a case in San Francisco.”

“Is he on his way up here now?”

“No. The appearance is for tomorrow afternoon, so he won’t fly up until the morning. That’s what he always does. I made the reservation myself.”

“Were they going to meet ahead of time?”

She paused for a moment. Donnally heard a rustle of paper.

“It’s not on the calendar, but I have a vague recollection she may have come down here for a couple of hours yesterday. He left and said he had to meet someone, but didn’t say who.”

“I’ll try the number and you do, too,” Donnally said. “If he doesn’t answer, send the police to check his house. Then call me back.”

Donnally disconnected and walked over to Navarro, who said, “I got the news a few minutes ago. There were a bunch of calls from Ryvver’s pay-as-you-go cell phone and Reggie Hancock—”

“But none since last night.”

“Yeah, but none since last night.” Navarro squinted at Donnally. “How’d you know?”

Chapter 55

As they drove away, Navarro called Judge McMullin and got the bail on Camacho for moving human remains raised from the statutory fifteen thousand dollars to no bail in order to keep him locked up and then got another detective to swear out a warrant on the same charge and bail amount for Calaca, whose full name and address they found in the search of Camacho’s house.

Donnally tried to reach Jackson on her cell phone. She didn’t answer. He wondered whether she’d put it back in her purse and couldn’t hear it or was just refusing to pick up.

His phone rang just as he was returning it to his pocket. It was Hancock’s secretary.

“My assistant just told me Reggie left a message on the main office voice mail. He usually leaves them on mine, but he knew I had an early doctor’s appointment. I just listened to it. He said he’s in San Diego and that he’d stop by the office in the morning on his way to the airport.”

“How did he sound?”

“Strained. Really strained. And I checked the caller ID, the phone he called from had a 415 area code, San Francisco.”

“We’ll start looking for him,” Donnally said. “I’ll call you as soon as we find him. Let me have the number the call came from.”

Donnally wrote it down, disconnected, and relayed the conversation to Navarro, who called the intelligence unit to check the number. It was another pay-as-you-go cell phone. He called it. There was no answer, and no voice mail had been set up. The number seemed familiar, but he’d looked at so many in recent days, almost any number would have.

He glanced over at Navarro. “You have Camacho’s cell phone records?”

Navarro thumb-pointed over his shoulder toward his briefcase lying on the backseat. Donnally flipped it open and pulled them out, and there it was.

“Bingo. Ryvver called Camacho a few minutes before he called Calaca on the night of Hamlin’s murder.”

“Another noose just tightened.”

“That’s not the only one. Ryvver will figure out pretty soon that Jackson’s usefulness has just about ended. And Jackson is our only lead.”

“And if Ryvver is as crazy as people think, she may blurt out that Hamlin was really her father, and Jackson will put it all together and figure out that Ryvver did in Lange, too.”

“And then Ryvver in her crazy way will start thinking she needs to get rid of Jackson.”

When they arrived back at Hamlin’s office, they found that Jackson was gone. Navarro sent area beat officers to knock on her door. They reported back ten minutes later. Jackson wasn’t there either. Her roommate let them search the apartment. She hadn’t seen Jackson in two days. Jackson had told her she’d be staying with a friend out in the avenues. They left instructions for Jackson to call Navarro if she showed up.

Donnally thought of Ryvver’s cell phone calls. Almost all from the avenues. He walked to the window and looked down, scanning the street.

“Mother Two is down there,” Donnally said. “Parked in a yellow zone.” He turned back toward Navarro. “How about you block her in? It’s time we had a talk.”

Navarro nodded and left the office first. Donnally waited a few minutes and rode the elevator down. He stopped just inside the main entrance, where he had an angled view up the one-way street. The front of Mother Two’s truck faced him. Her visor was down and she had a newspaper against the steering wheel to hinder the view of anyone looking inside. He saw Navarro pull to a stop next to her, blocking the driver’s side door.

Donnally watched Mother Two roll her window down and scream at Navarro, then Donnally ran up to the passenger side and yanked the door open and jumped in. Mother Two swung an elbow at him. Donnally blocked it with his left hand, then grabbed her wrist and turned it down. Next came her left arm, roundhouse style. He blocked it with his right, but missed the grab. She drew back, and Navarro reached in through her window and locked onto her arm. She struggled, twisting her body like a bucking bull. Navarro snapped a handcuff on her wrist, then hooked the other end to the steering wheel. Donnally pulled the keys from the ignition.

“Enough,” Donnally yelled at her.

Mother Two was breathing hard through her nose, her nostrils flaring.

“Why didn’t you just come up to my window and ask to talk to me?”

Donnally thought of her screaming at Navarro.

“And what would you have done?”

“Found a way to run your ass over.”

“What’s your beef with me?”

“My beef with you is that you’re trying to drag a mentally ill young woman into something she’s not a part of. She didn’t hang Mark Hamlin out there. She weighs all of a hundred pounds.”

“I know she didn’t.”

“Then why are you hounding her?” Mother Two pulled on her arm. “Let me go.”

“You swing at me again and you’re going to jail.”

Mother Two breathed in and out again, forcing the air like she wanted it to be heard. Finally, she said, “Okay. I won’t hit you.”

Donnally released her wrist.