Afraid to Die (Alvarez & Pescoli)

“No one expects that. In fact, if you did, Grayson would probably order you in for a psych evaluation.” Their boots crunched as they crossed the parking lot. “Just give her a break.”

“Fair enough.” Pescoli nodded as if agreeing with herself. “I’ve been checking the entrants in that ice sculpture contest in Missoula,” she added. “Twenty-four of ’em.”

“Seriously?”

“A quick look says that four have records, one was a DUI, another forgery, but two were violent. Domestic abuse in one case, assault in another. I’m checking those boys out.”

“Need help?”

“Not yet. Oh”—she snapped her gloved fingers—“by the way, got a call from Ezzie Zwolski.” They’d reached Alvarez’s Outback. “Seems she wants to come in and talk to me about her boyfriend’s death.”

“I’ve always thought she’d been holding back.” Ezzie Zwolski had been reticent about discussing Len Bradshaw’s death, but Pescoli had been pressuring her, hoping as Bradshaw’s lover and Martin Zwolski’s wife, she might know more than she was saying.

“She’s coming in with an attorney,” Pescoli said.

“Uh-oh.”

“Tomorrow, at eleven. Thought you might want to be there.”

“It’s Saturday.”

“Go figure. She couldn’t come in today, or wouldn’t, and I didn’t want to wait until Monday, just in case she changed her mind. So she wrangled her lawyer into spending a couple of hours on Saturday with me.”

“Yeah, I’ll want to be a part of it, but Ezzie wasn’t there when Bradshaw was killed.” That fact had already been established. She’d been at work, verified by her boss at the grocery store, her time sheet and footage from the store’s security cameras.

“I know, but Ezzie has the unique position of having been intimate with both men. And she did the books for the company when Len made off with all the cash. I’m thinking she could give us some insight as to motive and how close the partners were, maybe even how long her ex might hold a grudge ... Couldn’t hurt.”

“Suppose not. You know, it might be just as Martin insists. An accident.”

“Maybe we’ll find out tomorrow.” She seemed about to head to her Jeep, then hesitated. “You know, I’m still waiting.”

“For what? Ezzie to come clean?”

“Not Ezzie. You. I thought maybe you’d tell me what’s really going on with you, O’Keefe and the runaway kid wanted for armed robbery.”

“Yeah, I know.” She glanced up the street to the coffee shop she and Pescoli often frequented. That wouldn’t do. Too many people she knew might be frequenting the cozy little space. She definitely needed more privacy for what she was about to confide. “Look, how about I buy you a drink?”

“Does it come with a shot of the truth?”

“Oh. Yeah.” Alvarez opened the door of her Subaru and added, “In fact, it’s two-for-one night.”

Chapter 15

“So the kid in the armed robbery in Helena could be your son?” Pescoli said, trying not to sound as stunned as she felt as she stared at her partner across a stained table in a private booth in the Elbow Room tavern, a hole-in-the-wall on the outskirts of town. Here, it was dark, the neon of beer signs shining in bright colors, the smell of beer pervasive, and the patrons played pool, watched sports on the televisions mounted over the bar and shucked free peanuts onto the old concrete floor.

Pescoli had been a witness to a lot of shocking things in her life as a cop. The killers who’d haunted the woods around Grizzly Falls had been cruel and bizarre. However, Alvarez’s confession that she was the mother of a kid she’d given up for adoption set Pescoli on her heels. She’d thought she’d had her partner pegged and would never have guessed that the by-the-book cop with a master’s degree in psychology and a diet and exercise regimen that would make a professional trainer envious would have such a dark secret that apparently had eaten her up inside. “You could have told me you had a kid,” Pescoli said with a lift of a shoulder. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is ... was ... to me.” Alvarez took a sip of her wine, another shocker as she usually stuck to water and green tea and all things healthy.

“So when Grace Perchant wandered up and said your kid was in danger, you knew it was Reeve?”

“I don’t believe anything Grace Perchant says. For the love of God, she thinks she talks to ghosts!” Alvarez snapped, irritated.

“Ouch! Sorry. Hell, I’ve been saying that a lot lately. Everyone tells me I’m insensitive or always pissed off or out of line, and I end up apologizing. Doesn’t seem right.” She took a long swallow from her frosted glass. “Go on.”

Alvarez stared into her glass as if she could see the future in six ounces of merlot. “I didn’t even know his name.” S

he was shaking her head. “I had no contact. None. That’s the way I thought I’d wanted it.”