Sins of the Past Page 11

  “You’re spoiling them,” she whispered.

  “That’s okay,” he said. “They’re great kids. Great kids deserve to be spoiled a little. Especially considering what they’ve lost.” He held her gaze as he uttered those last words, compassion coloring his features suddenly.

  “Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Kate said and looked away. They did deserve to be spoiled a little.

  Trevor pulled his jacket and shoes on, then gave Kate a kiss on the cheek before disappearing through the front door. She stared at the door as it closed, standing there quietly for several seconds. It was only when she felt someone tugging at her hand that she snapped back to reality. She looked downward to see who had touched her and her eyes connected with the big blue ones of her daughter.

  “Trev go home?” Anna wanted to know. She clearly didn’t get that Trevor had just gone out for a moment.

  Kate bent down and picked up her daughter. She had become so heavy in the last year, weighing close to twenty-five pounds. “No, he’s coming back soon. He went to buy something to drink and cake for us to eat after dinner.”

  “Cake?” the little girl grinned.

  “Yes, he went to buy cake,” Kate said and kissed the girl on the forehead, then put her down again. She needed to get going with dinner. It would take her at least thirty minutes to prepare it, and the kids seemed to be hungry again. She wanted them to remain as happy and easy to deal with when Trevor came back, and not attack him, demanding to get cake from him. If they saw dinner was about to be ready, they would back down without giving too much of a fight. She told Anna to watch cartoons with Luis, and then she hurried out into the kitchen and started dinner.

  When dinner was over and the kids had gone to bed, it was just Kate and Trevor left. They had moved out to the living room where they were nursing a second glass of wine. Like Kate had promised herself earlier, she hadn’t drunk excessively. She had barely touched this second glass, which she had made sure was smaller than the first Trevor had poured her.

  At the moment, he was gazing deeply into her eyes, and even though she wasn’t exactly drunk, she still felt a little woozy. She was pretty sure the wooziness was due to how Trevor was making her feel. He had been so attentive all day, so sweet and patient with her children, who were both a handful, especially Luis. It took a special person to be able to do what Trevor had done today. He had even managed to convince them to go to bed at a decent hour without them protesting loudly, which was almost unprecedented.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked her where they sat next to each other on the couch, listening to soft rock.

  “Better than I have in a while,” she admitted. She held his gaze and wanted nothing more than for him to kiss her right then. She knew it was bad, but she wanted to escape the pain tonight, feel a body next to her in bed. She missed Diego the most when she went to bed at night. Was it really so wrong if she spent the night with Trevor? It wasn’t like he was a stranger after all. He was her good friend, and he was also someone she had once dated for several weeks. Theirs was unfinished business really. She and Trevor had never gotten past second base, and tonight she was willing to go all the way with him. She realized she hadn’t ever seen him with his shirt off. She imagined that while he was more slender than Diego, he still had a nice physique, lean and ripped.

  He finally leaned in and kissed her then, and that wooziness in her multiplied, and she felt a lot drunker than she was as he explored her mouth, ran his hand over her long hair.

  As suddenly as he had leaned in and planted his mouth on hers, he pulled away, however.

  Startled, she gazed at him. “What’s wrong?”

  He took a deep breath through his nostrils, then smiled at her as he caressed her cheek with the knuckles of his left hand. “I’m moving too fast. You’re not ready for this yet. We need to wait, even if I have to admit that it’ll be hard to do. But it’s better. Trust me.”

  She didn’t know what to say. On the one hand, she agreed with him, but on the other, she was dying for him to crash his lips to hers again and plunder her mouth in the sensual way he had just done. She needed this distraction right now, wanted him. But he was probably right when he said that it wasn’t wise for them to move so quickly; she was still in mourning and this was not the way to deal with her and the kids’ loss. No, it was better to tread with caution, go slower.

  So she nodded and said, “Yes, you’re right.”

  He pinched her cheek lightly. “I know I am. Trust me, there’s nothing I could want more than to kiss you again and carry you into the bedroom, but it’s best that we wait.” He got to his feet. “In fact, because the temptation is so great, I better get going before I do something I’ll regret.”

  She filled with disappointment as he straightened. “I had a lovely time with you and Luis and Anna today, Kate. Thank you for inviting me.”

  She pressed out a smile. “No, thank you for coming and brightening our day. I dare say that both the kids and I feel the same way. It was really great having you with us.”

  He smiled back at her. “Well, I can’t wait until we do it again.”

  “Not me either,” she said. Then, before she was able to stop herself, the words were out of her mouth. “I found out something terrible about Diego the other day.”

  Trevor frowned lightly. “Really? What’s that?”

  “That he was once a member of a violent gang named the Latin Devils.”

  When Trevor looked away and didn’t immediately say something, Kate knew something was up. She grabbed his arm. “What, Trevor? What’s wrong?”

  He turned to look at her again. “I already knew he used to be a member of that gang. I also knew that he was one of their most vicious members.”

  She couldn’t stop herself from gasping out loud. “What? You knew? How did you know about that?”

  “As you know, my mother is a writer. When she was freelancing for papers and magazines, she specialized in gangs. I saw his photo several times in her research material. I never told you because I didn’t want to upset you. After all, he had managed to leave the gang, so what was the point? It would just make you worry. I didn’t want you to be worried. I didn’t think your life or that of your children was in any danger.”

  “Really?” Kate was staring at Trevor. “You’re sure it was Diego in those photos?”

  “One hundred percent. I saw like five of him and he was mentioned by name. He was one of the Latin Devils’ most vicious members. His cruelty was notorious.”

  Kate covered her face with both hands and felt like she was about to pass out. “Oh, my God…”

  She could feel Trevor stroke her head. “I know, Kate. It was bad. I didn’t want you to know about it. It would have served no purpose, only upset you. But if you want to know the truth, I do believe that Diego had it coming. That’s why he’s dead now.”

  * * *

  Chapter 24

  Wil and Larry stayed down in Oklahoma for the next few days. They wanted to hear what the local medical examiner had to say about Mary Lou Dalton’s death, as well as talk to people who had known the woman and her family. Their theory in regards to Diego Martinez’s murder now involved it being an Aryan Brotherhood related revenge—and either the mother or the son was the killer, or a combination of the two, the mother being merely an accomplice in that case. Given that Diego had been attacked from behind with a knife, the murderer didn’t have to be a big and strong person. Unfortunately, there had been no shoe marks on the crime scene, indicating the size feet of the killer.

  According to the ME, Mary Lou had died from a heart attack two days before Larry and Wil discovered her. Since the woman wasn’t a social person, they couldn’t count her out as the killer—no one knew if she had left her house for a few days. They checked trains and flights for any bookings to the Big Apple in her name around the time of Diego’s death and couldn’t find any. Sadly, she could have taken the Greyhound and paid in cash or simply driven up north. They thought the Greyhound was
the most likely option in that case, since it was the easiest and most affordable. Mary Lou hadn’t been a woman of means.

  Even if Mary Lou could have done it, both Wil and Larry thought it was a lot more likely that the son was their main perp. Being so overweight and in such poor health, it would be hard for the old woman to attack and kill a young, healthy, average-sized male even from behind. Not impossible, though. Even so, their focus was set on Pete Dalton, who they now estimated to be about thirty-three years old. Only problem was, they soon discovered after speaking to people in the area, as well as to local law enforcement, that the last time someone saw Pete Dalton was about eight years ago. And the person who had seen him then, in one of the convenience stores in the small town, wasn’t even entirely certain it had been Pete. It had been winter and the person believed to be Pete had been bundled up in a coat, hat, and hoodie, and sported a beard. Other than that, it appeared most people saw him the last time about a year after his sister’s funeral, years after he had already become a member of the Aryan Brotherhood.

  “So you think he’s our man then?” Wil asked Larry where they sat in a diner having breakfast consisting of Country Ham with Red-Eye Gravy, grits, and steamy hot biscuits, and scrambled eggs. She had a big gulp of her coffee to help rinse down the rich food. Of course, unlike Larry, she was only eating the eggs and the biscuits. No gravy-covered ham or grits touched her mouth.

  “Yeah, that’s our best bet,” Larry answered as he loaded his fork with grits, gravy, and country ham. “This is some seriously great food.” He grinned happily at her as he shoved the heaping forkful into his mouth.

  “Yeah, it’s pretty damned good,” Wil said and smiled. “And do we think it’s because of a revenge related to something Diego did to him while in the Latin Devils?”

  “Uh-huh, looks like it,” Larry muttered in between chewing.

  “Okay, good. Now, if we could only figure out where the hell he’s disappeared to. It’s like he’s been swallowed up by the earth since that last time that woman saw him in the convenience store. And no one else has any idea what happened to him.”

  “Yeah, it’s not good.”

  Wil sighed. “I think we’ll need to find some of the members of the Aryan Brotherhood and see what they have to say. The only thing everyone can agree on is that Pete was heavily invested in the AB around the time he was last seen in the area. My guess is he just left the area and moved to Texas, since Officer Hall said the AB is more active there than here. And since that’s where Diego was up until he moved to New York.”

  “Sounds like a good approach. When we’re done here, we should start looking for members of the AB and see if they can enlighten us in regards to what might have happened. Pete seemed the tightest with the gang.”

  “Yeah, either that or talk to members of the Latin Devils. If Diego did something to someone in the Brotherhood that could come back and bite him in the butt, they would know, right?”

  “You would think. Question is, would they tell us?”

  “It’s worth a try. Since Diego was a member locally, the Martinezes should know where we can find some of the Devils. How do we find out where AB members who knew Pete Dalton hang out? Not even the cops seem to have a clue. I don’t feel like searching all nearby prisons.”

  Larry wiped his mouth carefully with a paper napkin. “How about we go talk to the teacher who was so involved in Pete’s life? The cops mentioned that she seemed to know a lot about what was going on with him shortly before he disappeared. She was also someone who worked with members of the AB in general.”

  “Good call,” Will said. “I forgot about her for a sec.”

  They finished their breakfast and went out to their rental car and headed to the address they had been given for Mrs. Lancaster. She lived in a yellow house in the outskirts of Norman. They parked and walked up the gravel-covered path that led up to the green-painted front door and rang the doorbell. A dog barked somewhere inside the house, the sound nearing the door together with footfalls. The lock scrambled as someone turned it and the door opened inward, revealing a short brunette with glasses wearing a gray dress. A poodle was standing by her side, tongue lolling out of the mouth.

  “Good morning,” she said and her heart-shaped face broke into a polite smile, the crow’s feet beside her green eyes deepening. “How can I help you?”

  “We’re detectives with the NYPD and we’re investigating a murder we believe may have been perpetrated by your old student, Pete Dalton,” Wil said and flashed her credentials. “I’m Detective Cooper and this is Detective White. Do you have a few minutes, Mrs. Lancaster?”

  “Of course.” The small woman stepped aside so that Larry and Wil could enter the house.

  “Why don’t we go to the sitting room?” Mrs. Lancaster suggested and walked deeper into the house, Wil and Larry following her, the poodle at their heels. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  Wil and Larry exchanged glances. “No, we’re good.”

  Mrs. Lancaster indicated for the two cops to take a seat on the flower-patterned couch in the sitting room, and they did while the teacher sat down in a green armchair facing them. The poodle jumped up into her lap where it settled.

  “From what we have learned, Pete Dalton became an Aryan Brotherhood member shortly after his father was murdered,” Wil began.

  “Yes, because he was so angry that minorities had killed his father,” Mrs. Lancaster replied. “He was so, so angry and needed to channel it somehow. Unfortunately, despite my attempts to make him channel it in a more positive way, he went with the gang.” She tsk-tsked and shook her head. “It was so sad. He was one of my brightest students. It was such a waste.”

  “I can imagine it was,” Wil said. “As previously stated, we now believe it’s likely that he was the one who killed our victim in New York City. Since no one here in Norman has been able to pinpoint where Pete Dalton might have gone, we now want to find members of the Aryan Brotherhood who might know him. We spoke to local law enforcement here, and none of them have a good idea where we can find such members. All they told us was that the AB doesn’t hang in this area any longer. We were hoping that you might be able to help us out since you were involved with some of its members, as well as Pete Dalton up until he disappeared.”

  “It’s true that there aren’t many AB members in the Norman area any longer. The last time I had a student who was involved with the gang was three years ago. The ones who hung out here are all in Texas these days. Or in prison of course, them being a prison gang and all.”

  “Okay. So you believe that Pete also went to Texas?” Larry asked.

  “Oh, yes, that’s very possible.” Mrs. Lancaster scratched the poodle between the ears. “He often spoke about how much he loved Texas.”

  “Do you have any idea where he can be found in that state?” Larry asked.

  “No, unfortunately not.”

  “Okay.” Wil switched on her iPad. “I have a couple of photos I want you to take a look at. See if you recognize anything.”

  Wil and Larry had shown the images of the hanged man and the car explosion to both law enforcement and others who had known the Daltons. No one had thought anything on the photos looked familiar. Wil didn’t have high hopes that Mrs. Lancaster would, but she needed to at least run them by the old teacher. The car explosion was the first photo.

  Mrs. Lancaster shook her head. “I’m afraid nothing about that photo rings a bell.”

  Wil scrolled to the one of the hanged man. When Mrs. Lancaster spotted it, her eyes widened behind her glasses and she let out an audible gasp, covering her mouth with her hand.

  “Do you know who this is?” Wil asked, staring at the woman, who couldn’t take her eyes off the photo.

  “Yes. That’s the old principal at Norman High. Rutger Jensen. He committed suicide several years ago.”

  “Really? Why did he commit suicide?” Larry asked.

  Mrs. Lancaster patted her face with a napkin she had grabbed from somewh
ere. “We still don’t know. He never left a suicide note or anything else. But he had a tendency for depression, so when we found out he had taken his life, no one was very surprised.”

  “Was there an investigation in regards to his death?” Wil asked.

  Mrs. Lancaster screwed up her face. “I don’t think so. There was really no reason to suspect he had been killed. Rutger was a well-liked man.”

  Wil and Larry exchanged a glance, and Wil could tell that her partner was thinking the same thing as she was—not everyone had liked the dead principal and, clearly, Mary Lou Dalton had been one of them.

  * * *

  Chapter 25

  It was almost seven in the evening when Larry and Wil parked their rental car outside a squalid bar named Concha in the suburbs of Houston. According to both Maria Martinez and her parents, this was where several of the Latin Devils hung out. If Larry and Wil went there, they were likely to find a few they could talk to about Diego. Not only did the detectives want to see what issues Diego had had with the AB, but they wanted to take the temperature on the situation with Diego and the gang in general.

  Larry opened the door to the bar and a smoke-filled cloud that smelled of equal parts liquor, tobacco, and sweat met them as he and Wil entered. The insides were poorly lit and mariachi music played from strategically placed loudspeakers that hung from the ceiling.

  “Nice digs,” he muttered to Wil, who was right behind him and scrunched up his nose.

  “Damn nice,” Wil muttered back as they walked deeper into the dark establishment. The shady insides were as dingy as they had looked from the outside, but that didn’t seem to bother its patrons. There were several of them in there, seated on barstools along the bar or around tables scattered throughout the space. A few of them played pool at a table in one of the corners, while a couple of others were throwing darts at a board. Larry noted that about eighty percent of the people there were men, and that most of them looked Hispanic.