She said that would be delightful, her mind already on what outfit she would wear when she was able to get dressed again.

CHAPTER 32

Monday, May 1

10:15 A.M.

REDLANDS

UNTIL we were about fifteen minutes away from the Garcia household, Ethan slept stretched out on the backseat, using three pillows, only one of which was beneath his head. The others were placed so that all the tender places on his back and shoulder were somewhat protected from the jouncing of the car. Dr. Doug Robinson had pleased him by saying he should be able to manage without the need for someone to stay with him during the day-and made him happier still when he said that Ethan could come along for the ride to Redlands-provided he continued to get lots of rest. This was not really something Ethan could avoid, much to his own frustration.

He made a sound as he came awake, one I don’t think he knew he made, since he usually tries to hide any sign of his discomfort. He slowly sat up and rubbed his face and hair with his right hand.

“Need something for the pain?” I asked. Frank had entrusted me with a couple of the pills in case the long ride-about seventy-five miles in each direction-proved too much.

“I’ll wait until after we talk to the Garcias,” Ethan said. “I don’t want to be too out of it.”

The we was not lost on me. “Ethan-”

“Your story.”

“Not really a story, but-”

“I won’t interfere. Promise.” He smiled and said, “But I have to ask, did you mention to Mrs. Garcia that you’re married to a cop?”

“Ben tells me that when you first met him, you told him you had considered a minor in anthropology.”

“Hmm. That doesn’t seem like an answer to my question, but-Did I say that to Ben? Imagine that.”

“Imagine is right, since I’d lay money you never took so much as a course in it.”

The smile became a grin. “Key word is considered. You don’t have to take a course to consider a minor. But I get your point-you actually are married to a cop. So you did tell her.”

“I went very easy on that. It could have backfired.”

“Yes, I see what you mean.” He paused. “Frank told me about Anna. That maybe she had other motives for being with Ben. That sucks.”

“It bothers me, too. I can’t convince myself the whole relationship was a ploy, but it bothers me all the same.”

“I’ve been thinking…if you’d let me help you out, maybe that’s something I could help with. I could track down Fletchers. You know, do what I can to find out how far the branches of that family tree stretch.”

My impulse was to tell him that he should just rest and recover, but I knew how bored he was. Other than doctors’ appointments and an AA meeting, he hadn’t been out of the house until today.

“If you think you’re up to it, sure.”

THE Garcias lived in a two-story house on a quiet block. Like all the other houses on the street, it was neatly landscaped and appeared to be well cared for.

Dora Garcia was a short, slender woman with dark hair that she wore in a chignon. Her big brown eyes had a hint of amusement in them, as if she had just remembered a good joke that she dared not tell in present company.

She welcomed us warmly and fussed over Ethan in a way that I suspect he would not have tolerated from anyone else. He could be a master manipulator, so I wasn’t sure about the sincerity of his appreciation, but she lapped it up.

Tadeo Garcia stood aside and watched us make our entrance, then took a seat in what looked like a favorite armchair. He was wide-shouldered and tall, one of those men whose sinewy strength does not desert them in maturity. His arms looked as if he tied knots in railroad tracks for a workout.

He wore a neatly trimmed mustache. His hair was silver and long, tied back in a short ponytail. This surprised me-I don’t meet many ex-cops who have given up the burr. His eyes were as brown as Dora’s but held no amusement whatsoever. In fact, he looked as if he was more than a little pissed off.

He let his wife do all the talking. This is one of the many ways an interview can go south whenever more than one person is present. One-on-one is almost always best, but given the state of Ethan’s health, I could hardly ask him to take Dora out for a walk in the garden while Tadeo and I talked.

I didn’t jump right in with the third degree, of course. I’ve been at this long enough to know that a little patience up front, taking the time to build rapport, pays off later. But every attempt I made to draw Tadeo into general conversation was a bust. Tadeo grunted, nodded, shook his head, or managed a monosyllable. Dora frowned at him and responded at length. I couldn’t blame her-if this was the level of interaction the guy offered on a regular basis, she was undoubtedly starved for attention.

I asked him if the group of kids in a picture near his elbow were his children. All he said was, “Grandchildren.” His wife was expanding on that answer when Tadeo interrupted her and asked Ethan, “How’d you get shot?”

“The usual way,” he said. “Being a fool.”

That won the slightest smile from the man.

“Saving my life,” I said.

“Not the same thing at all,” Ethan said. “And as I recall, you started out trying to save mine. Fool rescue is a dangerous occupation.” He looked across the room. “As anybody in law enforcement can tell you.”

Tadeo’s smile widened a little, and he said to Ethan, “Tell me what happened.”

So Ethan gave him the condensed version of the whole tale, minimizing his own role. Somewhere in there, he worked in the fact that he knew Caleb Fletcher. And as his brief account ended with his talking about staying with us, he also said, “Caleb has been over to visit me twice now. He’s not the kind of person who forgets people, you know? He’s good that way.”

“Does he visit his brother?”

“Every week. That’s as often as he can see him.”

Tadeo sighed. “I wasn’t happy with Dora when she told me you were coming over here today.”

“We picked up on that,” Ethan said.

That won a laugh. “Sorry. Nothing personal.”

“Like hell,” Dora said. “Not personal against the two of you, but personal to him. Those bastards in his department-”

“Dora…”

“It’s the truth. It’s eating you up, old man, and you know it. Tadeo’s union had to fight the department to get his detective rank back.”

Ethan and I looked at Tadeo. Thank God Ethan knows when to keep his mouth shut. He was probably thinking the same thing about me.

The silence drew out. Finally Tadeo said, “Dora told me you were just working on background. You won’t quote me?”

“I want to be completely honest with you about this,” I said, “so let me tell you what I told your wife. I’m not working on a story. I’m married to a homicide detective who works in the Las Piernas Police Department, so I rarely cover anything directly related to a crime. I know Caleb, though, and I know what was happening in our crime lab in the years when his brother was convicted.”

“Yeah, we’ve heard about your problems.”

“So I’m not doing this for a story, I’m trying to see what I can learn for a friend. If you tell me something that can be corroborated in other ways, I may try to convince you to go on the record with one of my colleagues. But it will be your choice.”

After another long silence, Tadeo said, “I made a suggestion at a crime scene, about how a murder might have gone down. It wasn’t…in agreement with the way the lieutenant saw it.” He rubbed a hand over his chin. “It’s a good department, no matter what Dora says. My problems were with this one guy. Anybody else I’ve ever worked with would have at least thought about what a more experienced detective had to say. Not this guy. We got into a big argument. He was newly promoted, and kind of insecure.”