Yaritza was halfway back to Las Vegas when her cell
phone rang. She let it ring a few times before answering. “Detective Esteban.”
It was her boss, Captain Corday. “You take care of business up there?”
“One or two other things need to be checked out, but the deputy in
charge will take care of it.”
“I wish you would have taken care of all that yourself,” the captain
said admonishingly.
“Well, when the rest of the squad is out on maneuvers and they leave a
young kid in charge, there’s not much for us to do.” There was a silence. “Do
you read me?”
The captain cleared his throat. “Loud and clear, Detective. You were the
best choice in the situation, and we’d be remiss in not helping our neighbors
if they need us.”
Especially if the sheriff up there is a friend, she thought to
herself. “Yes, sir.”
“So, what did you find so far?”
“Vic was shot in the head, then castrated. The reason for it is very
inconclusive. He was from Vegas.”
“Name?”
“Mark Robertson. I have his car registration to head start us. We
checked the lake, no wallet or ID.” Yaritza read off the VIN and address
details so that detectives in the home office would start on it.
The captain finished getting all the data written down before
continuing. “What are you doing next, or rather what are they doing?”
“They? Well, HE is asking around about the murder, whether any fishermen
at a nearby lake saw or heard anything. The body was moved after castration. The
water seems to have cleared away a lot of the mess from the cutting, but it
might also have cleared away evidence. The spot where Robertson’s car was had a
clearer view. We don’t know about earshot yet in terms of a gunshot. If it was
silenced, then it’s moot. Area is remote except for the occasional fisherman at
the lake. Since there aren’t many fish, witnesses in that area are probably a
rare thing.”
“All right. Good work. Is the kid good?”
“He’s all right, he has good intentions, but he’s overwhelmed being
alone like that.”
“I know, which brings me to my next point. Let’s have the body moved
here. I have authorization. If he’s local, then having it here will make the
investigation easier.”
Yaritza smiled to herself, she’d been thinking about the same thing.
“Problem: I drive a sedan. How do we get the body to our turf?”
“Can the kid drive a hearse?”
“Probably, but that’ll leave the Nye station unoccupied.”
“Not if he’s relieved, which he will be soon. Trust me here, all right?”
“Fine. I should be home by 3a.m. And I wish to sleep for a bit,
otherwise I’ll be useless to everyone.”
“Then be useless. I want you in at 6 sharp.” The line went dead.
Yaritza just glared at the phone for a minute before returning her eyes
to the dark highway. It was actually peaceful at this time of night, not much
traffic heading to Las Vegas
on a Wednesday. There wasn’t a lot of headlight glare Reno way either. One could almost fall asleep
in that desert wilderness.
As she approached the outskirts of Beatty, her mind turned back to the
case. It was not something that she wanted at the moment. There was too much
going on for her personally. Her former fiancee had recently cut off all
communication with her. She still did not understand why. His Dear Jane note
had indicated bad communication that he did not understand. She could not
disagree, and had sought counsel with a therapist to sort it out.
As for work, several cases had been
wrapped up in the past month, some long-lasting and some rather minor. Three
months ago she had been swamped, and it was hard at times to remember what
evidence went with which case file. At one point she tried to put together a
flimsy conspiracy involving all the cases. The visits with the police shrink
had covered that as well, and resolved the issue. At any time she was either
underworked or overworked. There was rarely a balance.
Yaritza spent whatever spare time she had sleeping, catching the latest
talked-about movie at Texas Station, seeing local 80s bands at the occasional
club, or just sitting at home reading a book. Even in the rare social settings,
she was a bit of a wallflower. Where she shone was at work, and that was where
she felt the most comfortable, and her boss knew that. Fight as she may have
tried, she would have ended up at the Department anyway, and the captain was
just making it easier.
As she wound her way out of Beatty, the phone rang again. “Yeah?” she
answered.
“Detective Esteban?”
“That’s me.”
“This is Jules Dalton from the Department.”
“Hey Jules! It’s been a month or so.”
“I know, and I still owe you from the last stakeout.”
“Yeah, you do. What the hell are you doing up so damn late?”
“You sent down some information on a corpse, right? A Mark Robertson?”
“I did.”
“Sounds sickening.”
“What about him?”
“We ran him through a bit just now and we just wanted to give you a
head’s up.”
“About?”
“Robertson has, or rather HAD priors. That is assuming that we’re
talking about the same Mark Robertson.”
“Thanks, Jules.” She hung up the phone and grimaced to herself. Six o’clock
it would be.
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