High Country Nocturne (David Mapstone Mystery 8)

“I think it’s very tragic he had to live a double life,” she said.

“This is such bullshit!” Zephyr said.

“Let’s set that aside for now,” I said. “As I investigated this case, I did run across a woman named Stephanie Webb. She told me that she had a ten-year love affair with your husband, Diane. It went right up to the time of his death. In fact, when he had his fatal heart attack, he was at her condo in Scottsdale. She told me you forbade her to attend his funeral. She also told me she had found no evidence of him being interested in men. Quite the contrary…”

“You motherfucker!” Diane rose out of her chair and looked about ready to climb over the desk. She had dropped the mask of Arcadia gentility with ease. Melton put a restraining hand on her shoulder.

He said, “Is there a point here, Deputy?”

I was relieved we were beyond the forced casual first names. “I didn’t ask for this case, Sheriff. In fact, you brought me into it under false pretenses, but that’s another conversation. Diane started this by bringing you the wallet. As it turns out, that’s a good thing.”

“My private life is none of your goddamned business!” Her shout echoed into the high ceiling. Zephyr lost her tan.

“As a matter of fact, it is.” I let that sink in for a few seconds. She stared at me, then looked down. “I was the deputy who found Tom Frazier’s remains in 1982.”

Diane’s sharp intake of breath was noticeable.

I continued, “He was in the desert at the foot of the White Tank Mountains. That area was completely isolated back then. The death was ruled a suicide. The medical examiner found a fatal dose of heroin in his system. And that’s where the case sat until you found this wallet.”

“I don’t understand.” She attempted a laugh, about as droll as a Gila monster. “I was only trying to help. What on earth does this have to do with us?”

“I kept trying to figure that out myself,” I said. “You see, the problem is that there was no drug paraphernalia found at the scene. Not in the desert and not in his car. We performed a grid search that day of the area between where the car was parked and where the body was found. No needle, no spoon, nothing. When I found the body, I followed his tracks through the desert. I assumed he was alone. But the soil was hard and it hadn’t rained. So another person might have been with him. Someone petite who wouldn’t leave obvious footprints.”

“Who was Tom Frazier?” This came from Zephyr, in a small and tentative voice.

“He was about your age,” I said. “An EMT who worked on the ambulance. He wanted to go to college.” I pushed forward another folder. “These are interviews I did with six of his colleagues. Facebook has a page for Phoenix EMS veterans. It’s an amazing resource. I was able to find people who actually knew Tom.”

“What are you getting at, David?” Diane had regained her poise. “I think we’ve been very patient. I have things to do. If there’s something you want to tell us about Elliott, we can find a way to handle it.”

“Good,” I said. “Tom was an excellent medic. Skilled, good under pressure, never missed a day of work. That isn’t the behavior of an addict. In fact, they told me he wouldn’t even smoke pot. Put all this together and we have a suspicious death at the least, a homicide more likely. That’s why Sheriff Melton had me make this into a murder book.”

I let those words settle over the room before continuing.

“Tom was also straight. He was awkward with women. Who wasn’t at that age? He had an affair with a nurse who was ten years older. She broke it off. He was really hurt. You can read the statements here.” I tapped the folder.

Diane looked at me, then at Melton. “So are we done? I don’t really understand the point but I appreciate David’s diligence in this, Chris. Really, I do.”

She hastily stood. “Come on, Zephyr.”

“I’m not done.”

I might as well have pulled out the Colt Python and fired it. All the color drained from Diane’s face. She slowly lowered herself into the chair.

“Two people told me that Tom had started dating a girl his age. He had met her on a call. She overdosed on heroin and he helped save her life. After she got out of the hospital, he started seeing her. Seems as if he wanted to help birds with broken wings. That’s how his partner put it. The girl’s name was Diane.”

“What are you…?” Her face was a model of incredulity. “Chris, this has really gone far enough.”

I watched his eyes as he did the calculus. She was a big campaign donor. Did he have enough of a lawman in him to let me finish?

He said, “You two can go. Deputy Mapstone and I will be in touch if there’s anything further.” He said it in the tone of a servant dishing out afternoon tea.

Diane stood and clutched her Barney’s handbag close. Zephyr didn’t.

She said, “What are you saving, David?”

“I’m saying that I found a booking photo of your mother from 1981. She was arrested for possession of heroin but the charges were dropped. It was a small amount. I showed this photo to three of Tom Frazier’s former colleagues and they are willing to testify that Diane was his girlfriend. They described her as hot, impulsive, beautiful, but couldn’t kick the brown sugar. They said Tom was crazy about her. He’d do anything for her. They identified her from the booking photo. The photo of you, Diane.”

“I…” She made herself stop and pursed her lips.