guy must not have been hurt too bad,” I said.
“I got him good,” Carl said. “But the DA figured out that the other guy provoked the fight, so they went light on me. We were both drunk and in sorry moods.”
I nodded. “Okay, if everything you’ve told me is true, we won’t pursue charges for the altercation with Detective Mullins, if, right now, you let him go and drop that gun.”
Carl kept his eyes on me and his left hand, which had been clenched in a death grip on Mullins, opened up. Mullins gulped hard and darted away, until he stood at my right. As ordered, Carl lowered his arms. We watched for any sign he could rear up at us, any indication he might shoot. That didn’t happen. Instead, he crouched down and placed the gun on the dirt. Once he did, he stood again and followed instructions, hands up in the air.
Max grabbed the gun, and Mullins shouted, “Now you’re done, you SOB.” His face flushed so red it seemed to swell with anger as he shouted, “You’re going down for this, for all of it!”
I turned to Mullins and ordered, “Cool it. This part of it is done.”
“Chief, I…” he started. I shot him a look that warned I’d heard enough. He moved back, irritated.
“We’re going to take you to the station,” I said to Carl.
“You promised—”
“We’re not booking you for what happened between you and the detective. I’m keeping my word. But we need to talk to you about Jacob Johansson and his family,” I said. “We have four murders to solve.”
Nine
Max offered to drive Carl Shipley to the police station, and I ordered Mullins to report there and sit tight, to not interact with anyone but Max until we had time to talk. I had to drive back to the bison ranch to collect Naomi. Despite her turndown, I intended to get a statement out of her.
When I arrived, I had to park on the road. The forensic folks had expanded the crime scene, and yellow and black tape hung all the way back to the end of the driveway, encircling the family van Naomi arrived in. I could tell she was agitated as soon as I saw her. She rushed me, baby Jeremy in her arms, as I climbed out of the Suburban.
“Clara, they won’t let me take the van,” she said. “How will I get to my hives? And Ardeth needs it to do the family grocery shopping. By now, she’s screaming to the heavens about me. You know how your mother gets when she’s angry.” Naomi wasn’t exaggerating; my mother, Ardeth, was the first of father’s wives and as such had a tight grip on all that went on in the family. She was such a stubborn woman, such a strong force, that in my months home, even I’d been unable to buck her. Despite my attempts, she’d successfully kept me at arm’s length from my family. Yet while I understood, even identified with Naomi’s angst, I couldn’t let anyone, not even Mother, prevent me from getting what I needed.
“Mother Naomi,” I said, trying to calm her. “I’ll do something for you. But you need to do something for me.”
She gave me a twisted frown that signaled that her suspicions were building. “Do what for you?” she asked.
“You need to come to the station and give an official statement,” I said. “I’ll call my mother and explain the situation. When we’re done, I’ll drive you back here and get them to release the van, so you can drive it home.”
“No,” she said, as if that ended the matter. “I won’t do that. I won’t give an interview. I told you everything.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
She gave me a confused glance. “What do you mean, how do I know?”
“How do you know what I’ll ask?” I said. “Don’t you want to help find the person who murdered Laurel? Anna and her children?”
Naomi muttered something I couldn’t hear most of, nothing except my name, which wasn’t said in the kindest tone. I let her sputter, and eventually she turned to me. “Before we leave here, I need to know that when you bring me back, I’ll be able to take the van. Or I won’t go.”
“What will you do?” I asked, wanting to make sure that she understood she had little choice. “As far as I know the family just has that one vehicle. You don’t have a cell phone, and the Johanssons’