Deadly Gamble

Chapter 11 (Part 1)

Chapter 11

Who was lying, and why? Who and why? My sleep was filled with faces. Unfamiliar people who taunted me with untrue stories. Hatred and greed and threats and unfulfilled promises loomed as motives. I awoke at dawn, exhausted.

Rusty raised his head as I swung my legs over the edge of the bed. I rubbed at my temples hoping to dispel the headache forming there. He relaxed again on his rug at the foot of my bed as I stumbled toward the bathroom. I turned on the hot water full blast and let it begin to steam as I stripped off my underwear. Adjusting the water temperature downward somewhat, I stepped in and let the stinging spray wake me up. I slicked shampoo over my hair, scrubbing my scalp until it was tender.

Twenty minutes later I was pink and smarting but no closer to any answers. I slipped on a thick terry robe and padded to the kitchen to start some coffee. Rusty dashed out the back door, and I raised the window shades on the back door and above the sink. By the time I dried my thick hair and put on jeans and a sweater, the coffee and Rusty were both ready. He came in and

munched down a bowl of nuggets while I stood at the refrigerator door trying to decide what I was in the mood for. I was in the mood to dump this case and take a vacation.

The morning paper waited on the porch. I flipped through it page by page while I worked my way through two cups of coffee. Wistfully, I eyed the ads for spring break trips to Mexico or Hawaii. Once this case was over, I was going to think seriously about traveling. Ron had taken a ski vacation at Christmas and had only gotten out of his cast three weeks ago. His being out of the office had put an extra burden on me for two months. His business trip last week had landed me in the middle of Stacy's problems. I owed it to myself.

That decided, I felt hungry enough to eat a piece of cinnamon toast. I flipped on the radio while the butter and sugar bubbled fragrantly under the red element in the toaster oven. I dumped the coffee grounds and rinsed the pot. Just as I turned off the water, I caught the announcer's words saying that a suspect had been picked up in the Detweiller murder. A prominent attorney's wife.

The shit was about to hit the fan.

I dialed Carla Delvecchio's office and got an answering machine. It was only seven o'clock. I decided to go to the office and try again later. I'd no sooner wrapped my toast in a napkin than my phone rang.

"Charlie?" Stacy's voice was thin and frightened.

"Stacy, where are you?"

"In jail," she cried. "I'm so scared, Charlie. Please help me."

"Does Brad know?"

"Not yet. He had a breakfast meeting at six. The police showed up about five minutes after he left."

"Shall I try to find him?"

"No!" Her voice was terrified. "Can you just get me out of here?"

"Stace, you need an attorney. Let me get you one, and we'll see what we can do."

"Please don't tell Brad," she begged.

"He's going to find out, Stace. There isn't any way to hide this now. But I'll get you another attorney and we'll see what happens next."

She was crying openly when I hung up. I looked up Carla Delvecchio's home number. She sounded barely awake, but agreed to meet me at the police substation where Stacy told me she'd been taken. Rusty didn't look too happy when I told him he'd have to stay home, but I had no idea where this day would take me.

I called our office and left a quick message on the answering machine for Sally and Ron.

The Osuna substation of the Albuquerque Police Department is only a couple of miles from Stacy's house. For me, though, it was over forty-five minutes in morning rush hour traffic. I dashed through the door of the one-story brick building, frazzled and impatient.

"Stacy North was brought in here this morning," I explained to the officer at the desk. "She called me for help."

The officer was an Hispanic woman about my age, who looked like she'd just come on duty and hadn't had her first coffee yet. She pawed through some folders on the desk before thinking to check the computer.

"Oh, yeah," she said, like the name had finally registered with her. "You must have just missed them."

"What?"

"Her attorney came, but they have to take her downtown first. She'll be held there until her bond hearing."

Great. Well, Stacy was in Carla's hands now. I didn't see that there was much else I could do at this point. At a pay phone attached to the wall of the substation, I placed another call to Carla's office. I left a message on the machine to have her call me at my office when she was through downtown. It seemed there was nothing left for me to do but wait.