Part 19 (1/2)

He studied the mug shot taken three years ago when she was arrested. An attractive woman despite her hard, cynical smirk, with features surprisingly similar to Connie's, except that her hair was longer and darker, and her eyes gray. He quickly read through her record. She'd been sent to prison on a three-year term because of embezzling from her boss, one Max Squire. She'd recently been released, on parole, from the Women's Correctional Facility at Chowchilla.

On parole...he called over to Benson. ”Where's Calderon? Your partner has been making himself scarce around here lately.”

Benson grinned. ”Last I heard, he was going to lunch with that tall, skinny blonde Angie brought over here. She calls every hour on the hour to talk to him. He's either fallen for her, or he's going to kill her.”

Paavo cringed. Knowing Calderon, he had an idea which it was. Calderon was divorced. His wife had taken the kids and moved to New Mexico, saying she couldn't handle being married to a cop any longer. He was bitter about life and everything in it, but Paavo couldn't say that that bitterness had come about because of the divorce. He'd been bitter before the divorce; after, he'd turned completely toxic.

Paavo turned back to the reports on his desk and read Rebecca's findings. At times, handling a homicide investigation was like putting together the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. This was one of them.

Maple's eyes were gray, but she wore blue contact lenses. Her natural hair color was a dark shade of blond, yet she'd dyed it light ash. Her resemblance to Connie Rogers, as far as he could tell, was no accident.

A woman who looked like Connie had robbed a jeweler. Was it this woman?

According to the jeweler, a man was also involved in the robbery-a man whose description fit Max Squire.

Connie had met Max Squire at Wings of an Angel. The victim was found with a Wings of an Angel matchbook in her hand when she died.

A parole officer had shown up in Homicide looking for a woman who'd skipped and allegedly killed a man in Fresno. The woman's name was Veronica Maple.

This puzzle was trickier than most.

Continuing with her file, he turned to her younger years. One of her cohorts back then was Sid Fernandez.

He knew about Fernandez from the Gang Task Force. They'd come to him a couple of years ago, hoping to find a way to pin a homicide on El Toro, since they'd so far failed to tie him to any drug dealings. Fernandez was smart, though. He covered his tracks well.

Two of his underlings were picked up, one for robbery, another for murder, but there was no solid evidence linking them to Fernandez, and the men wouldn't talk. Paavo figured they both had families to protect.

Paavo also noticed that back in those early days with Fernandez, Maple sometimes stated she was married but separated, and other times said she was single. Nowhere in the file did she give her husband's name, if there ever was a husband.

Maple was her maiden name.

Strange. No one had questioned her on it; no husband had ever shown up.

He had to wonder if Veronica Maple was the true victim, or if someone had wanted to get Connie Rogers out of the way. If word went out that Maple was dead and Connie was the real target, her life would be in danger.

Whoever had shot her had probably run, but might also have hidden and watched as the paramedics picked her up. They would have seen she wasn't dead.

A strange cat-and-mouse game was going on. If the cat knew the mouse was dead, it would go away, but if it didn't and kept hunting...

Paavo walked into Wings of an Angel.

”h.e.l.lo, Inspector,” Earl said. ”Can I get you somethin' to drink?”

”No thanks,” Paavo said. ”I'm here on business.” He took out a photo, Veronica Maple's mug shot, and handed it to Earl. ”Do you know this woman?”

Earl looked at it. ”Who is she?” he asked, not meeting Paavo's eyes.

”I was hoping you could tell me something about her. We were given information that she had some connection with this restaurant.”

”I see.” Earl swallowed hard and studied the photo a little longer. ”If you got da case, it don't mean she's dead, does it?”

”Not everyone I investigate is the victim.” Paavo carefully chose his words.

Earl grew increasingly nervous and handed the photo back. ”I don't know her.”

”I'd like to go back and talk to Butch and Vinnie,” Paavo said.

”Wait, Inspector. You don't hafta do dat. Dey'll come out an' see you.”

”No need. It's just a couple of questions.”

”You wait right dere!” Earl dashed away. Paavo frowned and sat down to wait for Vinnie and Butch. When he two men arrived, they didn't look pleased to talk to him.

”I'm here about a case,” he began. Although no customers were in the restaurant at the moment, he added ”If you'd rather go into the kitchen, or someplace more private, that would be fine.”

Vinnie glanced balefully at the other two. ”Right here is okay.” The three eyed each other, then each took a seat. Earl wiped a drop of perspiration from his temple.

”Do you recognize this woman?” Paavo asked, showing them the mug shot. ”Her hair may be lighter and shorter.”

Butch was the first to back away, followed by Vinnie, then Earl. ”Is she dead?” Vinnie broke the team silence.

”We're investigating her,” was as far as Paavo would go.

”I already tol' him I never seen her,” Earl said quickly.

Vinnie scowled at him, then at Butch. ”I've never seen her neither,” he responded.

”Ditto,” Butch added. ”Why you askin' us, Inspector?”

”Something was found at a crime scene that might link her to this restaurant. We're trying to find out why.”

”Sounds like a coincidence to me,” Butch said, standing. ”We don't serve no criminals here. An' if a dame what looks like her came in here, Earl would remember-right, Earl?”

”Sure,” Earl said, also getting to his feet. ”Sounds like one of dem coincidences, don't you t'ink, Vinnie?”

”Sure. It's a big coincidence. Nothin' else.” Finally, Vinnie also stood. ”If that's all you want, Inspector...”

He stopped talking as he watched Dennis stride into the restaurant.

”Hey, looks like the gang's all here!” Dennis chuckled and patted his uncle as he traded h.e.l.los.

”We ain't got nothin' for you today,” Butch frowned. ”You may as well go home. Now!”

”Go? I just got here. I'm hungry.” Dennis said, then paid closer attention to the expressions of the three owners and Paavo. ”What's wrong? You guys look like you lost your last friend.”

”I'm trying to find out about a woman.”