“You didn’t identify a car belonging to the victim at the scene, did you?”
“No. We got her license plate number from DOL but we haven’t found the car yet. It’s a new Cadillac. Do you need the number or have you found the car?”
“We’re at Mrs. Delmont’s house in Tacoma. Her car is in her garage. But I can tell you what you should be looking for.”
“I’ve left the scene but I can go back.”
“That would be great.” I don’t trust the crime scene guys that were there to let me see what’s in the car. Mindy will FaceTime me and show me everything. “We might be a while here.” I read the plate number and vehicle description off to Mindy.
“Got it. I don’t remember seeing a car like that near there. So don’t get your hopes up.”
“Mindy, if you find it, can you get me on FaceTime and—”
“I’ll show you everything before I call Humpty and Dumpty to collect the car.”
“Is that what you’re calling our fabulous crime scene guys?” I ask.
“They were actually rude to me,” Mindy says, and she sounds miffed. “I’ve never had anyone not share a crime scene with me.”
“Be sure you tell the sheriff. He’ll tie a knot in their tails. Besides, one of them was rude to me as well,” I say. “Let’s cut their tires.” This gets a giggle out of Mindy. “Also, I need you to look for the victim’s cell phone.” It feels strange referring to Monique as “the victim.” But that’s what she is. Another victim I would have to avenge.
Mindy is very sharp. “You know we didn’t find her cell phone, or any other phone, for that matter. So you must have a different phone in mind. I’m guessing she had two phones or someone else’s phone.”
“You should have been a detective,” I say, and give her the phone number for the burner. “I think she called her daughter from it a day or so before she was murdered. The victim had been getting crank calls, or at least that’s what she told her daughter. If you can find the phone, it might give me some clue to who else she was calling recently. She only had the new phone about three weeks.”
“Any idea why she was up our way?” Mindy asks.
“Not yet. We’re in her home in Tacoma trying to find something for a DNA comparison.”
“Got it,” Ronnie says. She’s holding a coffee mug up and pointing to lipstick smears on the rim of the cup.
It’s the same color I remember Monique being fond of. Now we have two ways of identifying the body.
Twenty
Before we leave the enormous house, I go through the upstairs rooms. Ronnie has searched the bathrooms already, but I go back through those like I’m trying to see if she missed something. I know she hasn’t but it keeps her in her place as my assistant. Then I feel bad about thinking that. I’m her teacher.
In the bedroom I find Monique’s address book containing the members of her advocacy group. I can hear Ronnie in another bedroom, so I go into the hall as if I just came from the bathroom. I call to her. She comes out in the hall with a look of disappointment on her face. “Can you check this room with me?”
“There’s nothing in the bedroom. I even searched under the mattress.”
“You check the closet. I’ll look under the mattress here.” The address book is on the shelf in the closet. She finds it right away and flips through it.
“I’ve got an address book.”
“Good work,” I say, and she hands the book to me. “We should be able to contact some of her friends and see what she was up to.”
“Where to now?”
“I’ll drive while you start calling people in the address book. Start with the ones in the advocacy group.”
“What if they ask why I’m calling?”
“Tell them Monique is dead. We suspect foul play. Don’t tell them what really happened, but you’ll need to ask what she was doing in Port Townsend and if anyone wanted to hurt her. So you’ll have to tell them she’s dead.”
“That sucks,” Ronnie says.
“It’s going to be on the news in a little bit anyway,” I say.
We get in the car and Ronnie gets on her phone. “You’re right.” She shows me the screen. Monique’s name is already on the news stations.
My phone rings.
It’s Mindy.
I can barely hear her over the clamor of demanding voices.