Page 67 of The Girl from Devil's Lake
“I’d like to speak to Marvin Begay.”
“May I ask who’s calling and what this is about?”
“My name’s Sheriff Joanna Brady from Cochise County. He called my office earlier this morning in regards to a BOLO that was sent out last night.”
“One moment, please.”
Joanna expected to spend another three or four minutes on hold. Instead, the call was picked up almost immediately. “Marvin Begay here.”
“This is Sheriff Brady...” she began.
“Yes,” Marvin said impatiently. “One of my staff brought your BOLO to my attention earlier this morning, and the specifications seemed to match one of our cold cases. I spoke briefly to one of your investigators, but she wasn’t very forthcoming. What can you tell me?”
Joanna spent the next several minutes hitting the high spots of the investigation into Stephen Roper’s long history while Marvin Begay listened in dead silence.
“And you think you’ll be able to take him into custody today?” he asked when she finished.
“We’re hoping for an arrest warrant on the Amanda Hudson murder from North Dakota. Once we have that in hand, we’ll be able to take him into custody on their behalf.”
Marvin sighed. “I only wish my dad was still alive,” he said.
That was not a response Joanna expected.
“I beg your pardon?” she said.
“As kids, my father and Michael Young were best friends,” he said. “The year Michael was murdered, all the boys in his class wore red bandannas to school every day as a reminder that his killer was still on the loose. My father was in the hospital and on his last legs when I took this job, but that’s the first thing he said to me. ‘Maybe now you’ll finally be able to figure out who killed Michael.’ He never got over losing his friend.”
“I’m sure he didn’t,” Joanna said quietly. “People never do, but if you don’t mind my asking, what exactly is your job, Mr. Begay?”
“I’m the chief of police for the Navajo Nation,” he said. “Unfortunately, Michael Young’s death is only one of our unsolved cases.”
“Arresting Stephen Roper may take one of those off your list,” Joanna said. “And believe me, once we have him in custody, I’ll be sure to let you know.”
“Thanks,” Marvin Begay said. “Appreciate it, but you probably only have my office number. Here’s my cell phone number. I want to hear from you the moment that happens, no matter the time, day or night.”
“You will,” she said, adding his cell phone number to his missed-call message. “You have my word on that.”
By the end of that second phone call, Joanna’s watch read 1:25. That meant early dismissal at Lowell School should be close to underway. She was beginning to wonder why she hadn’t heard from her detectives when Deb called.
“We’ve got the warrant,” she announced.
“Good,” Joanna said. “What took so long?”
“That’s an interesting story,” Deb replied. “We were told Judge Askins was having lunch at the Copper Queen, but when we went there, he was nowhere to be found. We finally went back up to the courthouse to wait, and that’s where we were when he and his secretary returned from something that didn’t appear to be an innocent lunch. I doubt Mrs. Askins has any idea about what’s going on.”
“Oops,” Joanna said. “That’s definitely none of our business! Where are you now?”
“On our way to Roper’s residence. We just left Don Luis and started down Naco Highway. Jaime told us that on the far side of Roper’s house and just before Country Club Drive dead-ends, there’s a little pullout where local teenagers go to make out, drink, or both. He suggested we duck into that. That way our vehicle will be out of sight when Roper arrives home. Fortunately there’s a pair of binoculars in the glove box, so we should be able to see him without his seeing us. You do want us to wait until he’s home before we execute the search, correct?”
“Absolutely,” Joanna said. “I’ve got officers standing by here who, along with the CSI team, will be able to come assist with that whenever you’re ready.”
Just then she heard Garth’s voice muttering something in thebackground. Deb responded first with, “Are you sure?” followed by a heartfelt, “Crap!”
“What’s the matter?” Joanna demanded in alarm. “What’s going on?”
“We just drove past Roper’s place,” Deb replied. “The food truck’s not there, but you’ll never guess who’s parked in his driveway—Marliss Shackleford!”
Joanna’s heart fell. “What the hell is she doing there?”
