Her eyes got wary. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that if you are aware of any other crimes that Mr. Holmes might have done, I’d be happy to listen.”

For the first time, the woman was silent.

Decker quickly added, “Of course you know that as Mr. Holmes’s wife, you’re not required to expose any crimes that your husband may have done and confided in you-”

“I know, Lieutenant. That’s called the Fifth Amendment.”

It was clear that she and Holmes had talked before. “Exactly,” Decker said. “But if you’re willing to talk…get it off your chest…I’ll be willing to listen.”

Her eyes met Decker’s and she studied his face for a long time. “I take it that you think Ray had something to do with the missing flight attendant.”

“What I think is that Ray is in a heap of trouble. He’s going before a grand jury on capital murder charges against his former sister-in-law, Isabela Devargas.”

She shrugged, but her body had stiffened. Color had drained from her face.

“You know that Ray was born Belize Hernandez. That his brother and sister-in-law went missing over thirty years ago. Ray was involved. You know that.”

Another shrug. Decker regarded the woman. She was more than happy to level fraud charges against Holmes, but she balked at murder.

Decker said, “It’s all going to come out. Now’s the time for you to tell me your side of the story.”

“Nothing to tell,” Lindie said.

“I’m not interested in giving you any more grief, Mrs. Holmes. I’m just interested in getting at the truth.”

Again, Decker was met with silence. He said, “Would you like another latte?”

“Yeah, actually, I would. Thank you.”

“How about something to go along with it?”

“Just the latte.”

The request was entered. Again, another coffee was brought in to her. Decker neglected to tell the camera decaf and Lindie didn’t correct him. That was good. He wanted her awake and edgy. After a few sips, she started talking again.

“I can’t believe he took my money.”

“I can completely believe it,” Decker said. “Your husband has a past.”

“Don’t we all?”

The words twanged Decker’s antennae. He tried to be subtle, but he found himself studying her face. She was around Holmes’s age, and Decker could easily imagine her as a hippie in the seventies.

“You were a member of the church, weren’t you?” Before she could answer, Decker said, “And don’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about. We’ve already located two of the church’s former members-Alyssa Bright Mapplethorpe and Christian Woodhouse. They’ll have no trouble identifying you as one of their own. I’d like to hear your side of the story.”

She took another sip of coffee and said, “I have no side of the story. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You expect me to believe that?” Decker said. “You honestly expect me to believe that you, as a member of the Church of the Sunland, didn’t know about the disappearance of Beth and Manny. You expect me to believe that you didn’t know about the stolen money. You honestly expect me to believe that you didn’t know your husband was there when Beth Devargas was murdered. You know what, Mrs. Holmes? I don’t believe you. And if I don’t believe you, I think a grand jury won’t believe you, either. So either you tell me your side of the story or you’re on your own.”

Not a word was spoken, but the tears streaming down the woman’s face spoke volumes. Finally she whispered, “I was twenty years old, Lieutenant.”

“You were very young, and it was a long time ago,” he said gently. “So as best as you can, tell me what happened that night.”

She was sobbing now. “I don’t know what happened because I wasn’t there.”

“You were an innocent victim caught up in something that you didn’t do.”

“Exactly!” More tears. “Oh God, that’s always been my problem. My stupid naïveté. My daughter’s the same way.”

Decker reached over and patted her hand. She grabbed it and gave it a squeeze. “I was in love with him. That must make me the biggest sucker in the world.”

“He’s a smooth-talking guy.” Decker removed his hand from hers, then went for the jugular. “Lindie, why don’t you start from the beginning and tell me the whole story? Get it off your chest once and for all.”

And then she started talking.

43

O H GOD!” LINDIE Holmes sat back in the chair and looked at the ceiling. The tears were coming freely now, her brown eyes muddied with sadness. “I feel like I did back then…when everything came crashing down.”

“I’m hear to listen, so why don’t you start from the beginning?” Decker had several notepads. Pen poised, he said, “Tell me about yourself, Lindie.”

“Nothing to tell. I was a good kid from a nice family. It was the times.”

“Crazy times. Lots of good kids got swept away. Where’d you go to college?”

“Kentmore College in Pasadena. Do you know where that is?”

“Absolutely,” Decker stated as he wrote. “It was started by the Reverend William Coolidge Jones. It was a bastion of conservatism during very turbulent times.”

“Exactly. Most of us came from conservative homes. That’s where I met Christian Woodhouse. We started dating with the intention of getting married. I had the wedding planned out in my mind. Then one day at a party, he met Alyssa Bright, who later added the Mapplethorpe, the pretentious twit. After he met her, things radically changed.”

“How so?”

“Alyssa was a transplant to UCLA and Berkeley. She introduced Christian to a social conscience, but mostly she introduced Christian to sex and drugs.” She shrugged. “I was in love with Christian, so I went along for the ride. He didn’t have to prod me too much. It was a hell of a lot more fun than organic chemistry.”

Decker nodded, his hand cramping as he wrote as fast as he could. He got a slight break as she finished up her third latte and asked for another.

“All the drugs and partying took its toll. Technically, we dropped out of college, but if we hadn’t left, we would have flunked out. Both Christian and Alyssa came from more money than me, but I had some savings in the bank. We pooled our resources and rented some crash pad in the East Valley. Its biggest claim to fame was that it had a lot of bedrooms. To make ends meet, we took in boarders, dropout students like us. We weren’t picky about who they were as long as they could pay the rent. In the end, there were twelve of us in the one little house. Drugs flowed, sex flowed, life was one big party.” She stared at Decker. “You’re around that age. You must know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“I know exactly what you’re talking about.”

“See?” A smile through her tears. “Even cops have a past.”

Not much of one. In the early seventies, Decker was a father, a husband, and, most important, a traumatized vet, working as a beat cop in Gainesville, Florida. Still, he gave her a smile. She perked up when her fourth latte appeared. It gave her fortification.

She sipped and said, “After a while all the mindless stuff got boring, so we slipped into the next obvious stage. This was around ’73 or ’74, I guess. The Beatles and the Stones had discovered the Eastern religions. Now there was a purpose to being stoned. It led to spiritual enlightenment, but when we tried it out, something was lacking. Then Alyssa brought in Beth and Manny. Things changed. We found our real purpose.”

“Let me back it up a moment,” Decker said. “How did Alyssa meet Beth?”

“At the coffee shop where they both worked. Alyssa invited her to one of our meditation parties. Beth and Manny happened to be somewhat religious…Catholic by birth, but they also had included many Native American customs in their worship. It led to the perfect solution. We created a service that was familiar, but now we had the cachet of including Indian lore. We were entranced. Manny and Beth joined our group. We started our own spin on meditation. Hence the birth of the Church of the Sunland.”