Willing to Die (Alvarez & Pescoli)

Tanaka showed Macon the knife and didn’t get much of a reaction, just knit brows. “Is this from the kitchen block?” he asked. “What does it have to do with anything. I thought . . . didn’t you say Dad and Brindel were shot?”

“This was found outside the house.”

“How did it get there?” he asked.

“I thought you might tell me.”

“I have no fuc—effin’ idea.” His eyebrows collided and he shook his head. “Is this from the kitchen? Dad had a set, kept them razor sharp, like a surgeon’s scalpel. That’s what he’d say anyway. He was always sharpening them and . . . Jesus, I don’t know.”

He seemed genuinely confused as was she, unless the police were hoping to trip him up and shock him, maybe thinking he was in cahoots with Ivy. It didn’t make a lot of sense, but they had to cover all their bases.

After about an hour of answering questions, Macon pushed back his chair. “I’ve told you everything I know. Really. I didn’t kill my father or his wife. I don’t know who did.” Before Tanaka could argue, he was on his feet and reaching into his pocket for a pack of cigarettes.

Seth’s interview was more emotional. He was near tears throughout, but stuck to his alibi that he was with his girlfriend in Las Vegas. Tanaka had already spoken to the girlfriend, Laura-Dean Ellerby, who backed him up. The trouble was, Laura-Dean was underage and couldn’t have accompanied Seth into the casinos. Which wasn’t a cause for serious suspicion, just something to think about.

As they were leaving the darkened room and the two interviews, P

escoli asked Paterno, “You got anything on Ivy?”

“Not yet.” He shook his head. “We’re checking her phone records and still looking through camera footage around the scene.” Tanaka came out and joined them, and Paterno added, “Tanaka has talked to some of her friends. They don’t know anything, or at least that’s what they say.”

“They’re teenagers,” Pescoli said. “They lie.”

Tanaka raised an eyebrow at that remark.

“What about that boyfriend, Boxer? I’d like to hear what he has to say,” said Pescoli.

Shaking her head, Tanaka said, “I don’t think—”

“We’re hoping to catch him when he goes off duty today,” Paterno cut in. “He gets off at five, brings the delivery truck back to the warehouse where they ship from.”

Pescoli asked, “What do you know about the guy?”

“Not much. He has his own place, basically just a room in a house south of the airport.”

“The landlord is George Aimes,” Tanaka broke in. “A widower with a big house. Rents out empty bedrooms and the renters all agree to help out with repairs around the place to get the affordable rent, which is hard to come by in this city.”

“Or anywhere in the whole Bay Area.”

Pescoli checked her watch. “Why don’t I meet you there? I’d like to hear what Boxer has to say but I have to get back to my sister’s house and my kids, so I might have to leave early.”

She saw Tanaka’s lips tighten at the corners. She obviously disapproved. Tough.

“That’ll work,” Paterno said. “Afterward we hope to meet with Brindel’s divorce attorney. We tried earlier and missed him.”

Tanaka checked her watch. “But we might have missed our window.”

Paterno was obviously torn. “I’ll report back on that one,” he said, and his partner shot him a look.

It wasn’t really good enough for Pescoli and she didn’t trust that she would hear what she needed from him, but she backed off, would get back to the family for now. There were other ways to get the information. Ways she’d never admit to if pressed. Nothing totally dishonest, she told herself. Just expedient. This was the murder of her sister and brother-in-law after all. And her niece was missing. So, the rules could be bent a little.

Or maybe even a lot.

* * *

Pissed beyond pissed, Tanaka drove steadily south through the driving rain and the tangle of traffic that clogged the street. She and Paterno were headed south through the city to the warehouse of A-Bay-C Delivery where Troy Boxer worked. The wipers were working overtime, slapping the heavy rain away at a vicious pace.

“You shouldn’t have invited Pescoli,” she said as she was forced to slow for a red light. Through the windshield she noted the sky was blackening. Sunset came early this time of year and the storm and gloom only seemed to speed up the return of darkness.