“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”
“Does it have anything to do with all the excitement at Vista Grande?”
“They’re unrelated.”
“Except for you.”
“Luck of the draw. Were you in Vista Grande that day?” Eve knew his crews were working at each gated community on the days they were hit. She’d seen the vehicles in the security videos and in the gate logs.
“I wasn’t, but one of my crews was. That was some pretty wild shit. Ironic, isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“The people who live in these places think the gates protect them from all the crime and misery that’s out there, but it doesn’t. It just locks them in with it.”
“You think whatever happened came from within the gates?”
“I don’t know where it came from, that’s your job. But I’m sure there’s as much evil inside these gates as there is outside of them. Maybe more.”
Eve couldn’t argue with that, not after what she believed happened inside Anna McCaig’s house. That was pure evil. She noticed an LASD patrol car coming up the hill and reached into her pocket for her card.
“If you or anyone in your crew ever sees any of that evil, please give me a call.” Eve gave Green her card.
He stuck it in his shirt pocket and handed her one of his. It was glossy and featured a picture of his trucks. “And if you ever need yard work, keep me in mind. Green keeps you green, that’s our motto.”
“Catchy,” she said and went back across the street. The patrol car had pulled up behind her Subaru and Tom Ross was at the wheel. He rolled down the window.
“I’ve been assigned to watch the house,” Tom said.
“That’s my fault,” she said. “Sorry for the dull shift.”
“I don’t mind dull.”
“What’s the feeling at the station about all the personnel changes?” Eve had only heard what Biddle and Garvey had to say, but she didn’t trust them or their take on things. She trusted Tom’s.
“Deathfist took down two more of us.”
Biddle and Garvey were right. “I guess I shouldn’t count on any backup for a while.”
“You can count on me,” Tom said. “Eddie Clayton is on the next shift.”
“Are you two watching out for me?”
“And your cases,” he said. “When we can.”
“I wish there were more deputies like you.”
“There are more than you think. We just don’t send out press releases.”
Eve’s phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket. It was Duncan. She answered the call with, “Thanks for sweet-talking Shaw.”
“I really didn’t have to,” Duncan said. “Once he learned we’re working a fetal abduction, he was glad to give us whatever I asked for. He wants to keep this case under the radar, and away from the media, as long as possible, ideally until it’s solved. He doesn’t want to see the press exploit the lurid aspects.”
“So it remains a stillbirth on the blotter?” Eve asked, referring to the daily log of crime and incident reports that was available to the media.
“Yeah, and the incident at the McCaig house this morning is listed as a medical emergency with no elaboration. But word is going to get out that a crime scene unit was in Oakdale today. It won’t be long until the media gets curious. Even the reporters at The Acorn can put two and two together,” Duncan said, referring to the small local newspaper. “We may have a day, tops, before they start sniffing around.”
Now they had two ticking clocks, Eve thought: the 5150 hold running out on Anna McCaig and the media learning about the fetal abduction.
“Hopefully it will all be over by then,” she said.
“I got the warrants for Oakdale’s gate videos and visitor logs. Ruthie can print out or email the logs for you and the HOA will email you the link to stream the video.”
“Me? What about you?”
“I’m calling it a day. I’ll jump in first thing tomorrow.”
Eve checked the time on the phone. It was almost 6:00 p.m. “How can you quit now? We only have about sixty-six hours left until our 5150 hold on Anna McCaig expires.”
“Statistics show that if we can’t solve a case in the first forty-eight hours, it’s not going to get solved. So we have about twelve hours to spare,” Duncan said. “I’m going to use mine for dinner and sleep. You should, too. But I know you won’t.”