Vic put the gloves on and checked the note, then looked at the envelope. “This was mailed two days ago from the Del Valle post office.”
“That’s only seven miles southeast of here. Where’s the paperwork on the Sentra sedan impounded the night of the takedown?”
“Maybe forensics didn’t send it up yet, but it should be on the computer. What are you thinking?”
“I’m wondering if Dan had a girlfriend who lives around there and was using her car.”
“I took a look at it. A 1999 model that looked like it’s been through a war.”
“Maybe she found out about Kellie and couldn’t stand the competition. This note has a scent. The other notes don’t. They’re not made of the same kind of paper and the language isn’t like Dan’s.”
His friend picked it up to test. “You’re right, but news of the arrests has been all over the internet and TV. If such a person exists, why would she send Kellie a note now?”
“I don’t know, Vic. It’s just a hunch, nothing more, but I don’t like it. I want to find the person who mailed this. For a start I need the name of the owner of that car.”
“I’ll phone Stan at home. Maybe he can tell us where the report is backed up in the system. I have his home phone number on a list in my office.” He pulled off the gloves and tossed them into the wastebasket. “Give me a second and I’ll get it.”
Vic had been gone only a minute when he came right back and handed Cy a file. “The report was on my desk. I guess they thought you’d be in Brownsville longer, so they gave it to me. It must have been put there after I went home yesterday.”
He sat down next to Cy and they pored over it. “The present owner is Martina Martinez with an address in Garfield, Texas. That explains the postmark when they moved the Garfield post office to Del Valle.”
“She has a rap sheet for petty crimes starting at the age of fifteen. At the present age of twenty-one, her last known address is 16 Spring Street, and her last known employment is a manicurist job at the Travis County Hair Salon.”
“Maybe he hit on her when he went in to get a manicure or another wig or some such thing.”
“That’s what I’m thinking,” Cy murmured. “Her car went missing the night we arrested Dan. I think we both know why she didn’t call the police to report it stolen.”
“No doubt she stole it off someone else.”
“Let’s find out right now. I’ll drive us.”
They left the building and took off. The GPS guided them to a small bungalow in a run-down neighborhood on Spring Street in Garfield. Cy parked two houses away from the actual address and turned off the engine.
“While you knock on the front door, I’ll move around the back so any escape is covered.”
“Right.”
They’d worked together for a long time and could read each other’s minds. Cy walked to the rear and planted himself next to the back door. It didn’t take long before it opened and the woman they’d hoped to find came flying out as he suspected she would. Cy caught her tattooed arm and forced her hands behind her back to cuff her. She let go with a stream of Spanish curse words, trying to kick him. By this time Vic had joined him. “I’ve called for backup.”
“Good. Martina Martinez, you’re under arrest for evading police during an official investigation. You have the right to remain silent until an attorney is present. If you don’t have one, the court will appoint one for you.”
An older Hispanic woman of maybe fifty hid herself behind the partially opened door. “What do you want with my Martina? She’s done nothing wrong.”
Vic’s hands were on his hips. “She shouldn’t have run when I asked if I could talk to her.”
“What do you want with me?” the suspect cried. “I haven’t done nothing.”
“Where’s the blue Sentra car belonging to you?” Cy questioned.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Your rap sheet says you’re the owner, but it showed up at a town house in Austin. The man driving it has been arrested for murder. The police already have your fingerprints on file from your former arrests. When they match them to the ones found in the car along with his prints, then you’ll be going to prison along with the guy for being an accomplice.”
“There’s no guy!”
“Sure there is. Is he your boyfriend? How about that threatening letter you mailed to Kellie Parrish from the Del Valle post office?”
She tried to spit at him. “You can’t prove I sent anything to that spoiled fresa.”