“You didn’t take her to dinner?”
Del shrugged. “Dinner and a drink.”
“Sounds like a date.”
“What date?” Del said, dismissing it. “I offered to buy her a drink. She suggested dinner because she doesn’t like to drink on an empty stomach.”
“So call her again. Make this one a date. See what she says.”
“Who are you, Dear Abby?”
“I’m just saying it would be nice if every once in a while you came over to the house with someone Vera can talk to,” Faz said.
Del sat back. After a few seconds, he asked, “You think she’d say yes?”
“Why wouldn’t she?”
“I don’t know. It’s been a while, you know.”
“What, since your divorce?”
“Since I’ve been on a date.”
Faz waved it off. “Don’t sweat it. You’re like this car. You have some miles on the tires, but you take care of the exterior. You’re still in good shape.”
“I’ve lost ten pounds the past two weeks.”
Faz moaned. “Don’t tell me that. And don’t tell Vera that. You lose weight and Vera’s gonna make me lose weight. Why are you losing weight? You sick?”
“No, just trying to be healthy. Healthier.”
Faz smiled. “You son of a bitch. You like this woman, don’t you? That’s why you’re losing the weight.”
“What, a guy can’t lose weight for no reason?”
“Not when he’s Italian, he can’t. To us Italians, eating is like breathing. So unless you got a good reason, like a woman . . .”
“So, you think she’d say yes?”
“She said yes before, didn’t she?”
“That was different.”
“Why? You asked her for a drink and she upped the ante to dinner. Me, I don’t see that as different. I see that as a woman saying yes.”
“Maybe I’ll call.”
“Call her now.”
“I ain’t calling her with you in the car.”
“So call after we get done meeting Melton.”
“Maybe I will.”
“Don’t wait. Just get back and do it, first thing.”
“I said I’d call.”
“How are you fixed for condoms?”
Del faked a backhand. “I swear to God.”
Mike Melton, director of the Washington State Patrol Crime Lab, was as much a dinosaur as Del and Faz. He’d worked at the lab for more than twenty years. Melton told Del he’d accepted the position of director for much the same reason he’d coached each of his six daughters in sports. “If anyone is going to screw them up, I’d rather it be me.”
He was being modest. Three of his daughters had obtained athletic scholarships. The crime lab had also flourished under his leadership. Nearly as big as Faz and Del, Melton looked like a lumberjack more than a scientist. The detectives called him “Grizzly Adams” because of his close resemblance to the television actor on that show. He had wild brown hair and an equally thick beard, which was becoming more peppered with gray each year.
Melton kept an office on the first floor of the concrete building on Airport Way. While others in the building framed and hung their various diplomas, Melton displayed trinkets from past cases, like ball-peen hammers and baseball bats.
Del came to an abrupt stop upon entering Melton’s office. The scientist had trimmed his beard and his hair, both of which now bordered on civilized. “Whoa,” Del said. “You’re really taking this director position seriously.”
“You know me better. I’d never do this for a job. I’m marrying off daughter number four this weekend, and my wife said I needed to be presentable for the new in-laws.”
“Bring them in here,” Del said. “You’re sure to scare them away.”
“I bring in every one of my son-in-laws.”
Del looked around the office. “Love what you’ve done with the place since your promotion.”
“They keep threatening to move me. I told them to put my ashes on top of my computer and shut the door when I’m gone.” Melton looked at Del. “You look like you’ve lost weight.”
“Yeah, I’ve lost a few pounds.”
“You look the same,” Melton said to Faz.
Faz shook his head in disgust. “See what you’ve started,” he said to Del.
“Very sorry about your niece,” Melton said.
“Thanks. And thanks for expediting this.”
Melton handed Del a USB drive. “The documents go back two weeks from the date you provided on the subpoena to the phone company. We pulled all the e-mails and text messages.”
“What if she deleted a text or an e-mail?” Del asked.
“TESU pulled the current ones first and copied them over, then restored her backup. There weren’t a lot, but there were some. You got them all.”
“Thanks, Mike,” Del said.
“Crappy reason to have to do it,” Melton said.
CHAPTER 22
Leah Battles had been itching to cross-examine Joe Jensen. She wanted to establish not what he knew, but what he didn’t know. She wanted to establish that he didn’t know whether D’Andre Miller had crossed at the crosswalk, or whether Miller had been paying attention when he’d stepped from the curb or whether he had been distracted by the basketball. According to Terry O’Neil, who opened the rec center, Miller had had quite a night, the first time he’d been allowed to play. Maybe in his excitement he’d stepped off the curb without looking. Maybe he’d been listening to music on his headphones, also found in the street. It had been dark out and the clothing he’d worn had been dark. There were a number of points she could have scored on cross-examination, but it wouldn’t prevent a judge from finding probable cause, and it would only educate Cho as to where she would attack his witnesses and allow him to better prepare for the court-martial. As hard as it was to remain silent, she knew that sometimes the best thing to say was nothing at all.
“No questions,” she said, and Rivas dismissed Jensen and called for a short break.
Tracy Crosswhite made her way to the witness stand after the break. This morning she dressed like a lawyer, wearing a blue suit, but she still had the unmistakable demeanor of a cop. She did not look the least bit intimidated. Battles had done some research on Crosswhite in preparation for the hearing and found that the two women had a few things in common. Battles had also grown up in a small town, though on the East Coast. Her parents didn’t have much money—not the kind that can make a difference in a kid’s life. So whatever Battles was to achieve, she was going to have to earn. Chess had provided her with scholarship money and that same swagger she now detected in Crosswhite. Battles surmised that it came from the single-action shooting competitions at which Crosswhite apparently excelled. Battles knew you didn’t get that self-assurance by just getting up every day and driving into an office. It came from competition, from putting yourself at risk of losing, then winning anyway.
After swearing Crosswhite in, Cho made short work of establishing her credentials, background, and her presence at the hit and run.