“Benny Santiago’s transport has been delayed an additional month. He’s complaining of chest pains,” she said.
“What do you think his angle is?”
“He’s buying time. Scheming.”
“You think it has to do with you?”
“Yep,” Julia said. “I cracked open Pandora’s box, and there’ll be hell to pay if he wins on appeal. The good news is he won’t win on appeal, and if he does kill me, he’ll do it himself. I betrayed him, so my death is personal to him. So I’m on layaway for two decades.” Julia checked her watch. “We have time to speak with Tamara Brown’s sister.”
His gaze lingered on her.
“According to Andrews, Jocelyn Brown Smith works as a receptionist for a security office in the Far West End,” she said. “She’ll be getting off work soon. Care to join me?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.”
Julia didn’t speak while he drove, but he sensed she was chewing on what she’d learned about Benny Santiago. He only hoped she was right and Benny would insist on killing her himself.
Novak couldn’t stop thinking about her last night of undercover and the beating she’d taken. What Benny had done to her did not affect his case or his agenda, but still, because Julia was in the mix, he wasn’t afraid to stick his nose in where it might not belong.
Ken had said the apple didn’t fall far from the tree. Riggs had hinted that Benny had sexually assaulted her. If she was this good at hiding that secret, what kind of secrets had her old man been able to keep?
It was after two when they arrived at the security office as Mrs. Smith was leaving through the front door. She was dressed in her blue-and-white uniform and carried a small lunch box. Dark hair was twisted into a tight bun, and heavy-rimmed glasses sat atop her head.
“Let me talk to her first,” Julia said. “Psychologically, a woman alone crossing a parking lot night or day responds better to another female.”
“Agreed.”
As they approached, Julia pulled her badge, holding it high. “Mrs. Smith.”
The woman turned her head and halted, gripping her purse. “Yes?”
“I’m Agent Julia Vargas with the Virginia State Police.”
The introduction did little to ease the woman’s trepidation. “What do you want with me?”
“I’d like to talk to you about Tamara’s death.”
“Tamara?” she stammered. “She’s been dead twenty-five years. Why would you want to know about her?”
Novak approached and introduced himself. “We’re reopening the Hangman case.”
A car pulled out of the crowded parking lot, and another quickly took its place. “Is there somewhere we can talk and maybe grab a cup of coffee?” Julia asked.
“It’s been a long ten hours, and I have to be back here by six tonight for another shift,” Mrs. Smith said.
“We won’t take much of your time.” Julia forced a slight smile. “I’ll treat.”
The woman sighed. “There’s a diner right on the other side of the gas station. We can walk there. The lunch crowd has left by now.”
“Good,” Julia said.
The woman studied Julia. “What did you say your name was?”
“Julia Vargas.”
Dark eyes narrowed. “Jim Vargas’s kin?”
“He was my father.”
“Why would you want to open that case up?” she asked.
“I want to know who killed Tamara and the two other women.”
“You sure you want to dig into this?”
“Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”
The woman shook her head. “Let’s get that coffee.”
Within ten minutes the trio was settled in a booth with their coffees.
“When was the last time you saw your sister?” Julia asked.
“Lord, I don’t know. Even twenty-five years ago when the cops talked to me, I never could recall the exact date for them. Tamara was a troubled soul. She moved out of our parents’ house when she was sixteen and took to the streets. We did what we could to get her to see reason, but she said she could take care of herself.”
“You learned about her death from the police?” Novak asked.
“I did. It wasn’t Vargas but his partner who paid me a visit. His name was Thompson, I think.” She stirred her coffee absently. “Funny after all these years that I’d remember his name. But he was nice. Respectful. And I appreciated it.”
“Was there anyone in her life who you knew might have been a threat to her?” Novak asked.
“I would say everyone. She ran with a rough crowd. She was hell-bent for trouble.”
“She had several arrests,” Julia said.
“She did. Drugs. Prostitution. I don’t know what got into her. I tried to save her, but she thought I was jealous of her.”
“What do you remember about Detective Vargas?” Novak asked.
“He wasn’t as easy to deal with as his partner. And I knew him from before, of course.”
“Before?” Julia asked.
“I saw him with Tamara at one of those bars a couple of years before she died. They were sitting in a booth talking to each other real close and quiet. His hair was longer, and he looked rougher, but I knew it was the same guy.” She set her cup down as if the weight of the memory overwhelmed her.
“Are you sure it was the same officer?” Julia asked.
“I am. I made a huge scene. I was so sure I could save Tamara from herself. I went charging into the bar full of fire and brimstone. I marched right up to her table and told her it was time she came home with me.”
Mrs. Smith paused, her expression pained, and Julia asked, “What did your sister say?”
Mrs. Smith choked up. “She said I was dead to her. She looked at that Jim fellow and acted like she was embarrassed to be seen with me. He told me to leave in that deep gruff voice that I’ll remember longer than his face. He said he had it all under control. He scared me, but I stood my ground.”
Julia had seen pictures of her father during his narcotic task force days. He’d grown his hair long and had a thick mustache. He looked like he belonged on the streets.
“I told him to mind his own business. I told him she was my sister. And then he was up out of that booth and grabbed me by the arm. He told me to stay away. Tamara would be fine with him.” She shook her head. “I looked up into his eyes, and there was something I couldn’t put my finger on. I was so tired of chasing after Tamara. I was so tired of waiting up for her. I looked back at her and asked her one last time to leave with me. She said no, and I left.”
The woman picked up her coffee and stared into it. Her brow knotted as she shook her head.
“The last time was at the morgue when Ken Thompson called me to identify her.”
“My father was working undercover when you saw him in that bar.” Julia didn’t question the need to defend her father. “I believe Tamara was working with him as a confidential informant.”
“That’s what he told me later. I suppose it was meant to make me feel better, but it didn’t. I always wondered how different life would be if I’d dragged her out of that bar that day.”