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Authors: Faye Kellerman

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BOOK: Gun Games
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Gabe softened and took her hand. “It’s okay . . . I’ll be fine.”

“Gabriel, it’s not forever. You’ve always got a home with Peter and me.”

“Thanks, but that’s not gonna help me now.” Gabe let out a small, sad laugh. Even that was enough to cause his side to burst with pain. “Do me a favor. Tell the anesthesiologist after surgery not to bother to wake me up.”

Chapter Thirty-four

D
ecker caught up to Marge as she walked into the station house. “Was Gabe able to make an ID?”

“He was so sure that I believe he could have done it with his eyes closed.” She paused. “That makes no sense.”

The Loo smiled. “When is he going into surgery?”

She checked her watch. “In an hour. Maybe a little less by now.”

“Good. Lee Wang is on his way to the hospital with the remaining four photo arrays, Yasmine picked out two more people—Darla Holbein and Kyle Kerkin. She couldn’t make a positive on JJ Little or Nate Asaroff. Maybe Gabe can pinpoint them.”

“Let’s hope,” Marge said.

“This is the deal.” Decker looked around to make sure none of the detained teens were within earshot. “Oliver and I just finished up with Kyle Kerkin. He finally lawyered up, but not before he had a bad case of logorrhea. The good news is we have a connection between Dylan Lashay, Kyle Kerkin, and Gregory Hesse, but it wasn’t exactly like I thought.”

Marge took out her notepad. “I’m listening.”

“The short answer is Kyle Kerkin is gay. He was in the closet when he and Dylan Lashay had a short-lived affair. Dylan broke it off and threatened to out him unless Kyle gave him guns from his father’s collection. So Kyle gave Dylan a single gun and that seemed to mollify him and Kyle remained in the closet. I’m not sure but I think Kyle Kerkin and Gregory Hesse were set up by Dylan Lashay.”

“Set up as in framed?” Marge asked.

“No, set up as in Dylan the matchmaker. For his services, Gregory Hesse probably edited all Dylan’s papers and Kyle gave him a gun. A good arrangement for everyone.”

“So Gregory Hesse was gay?” Marge appeared skeptical.

“According to Kyle, yes.”

“What about that girl in the snapshots giving Greg a blow job?”

Decker said, “You didn’t see a face, right?”

“Right.”

“Kyle Kerkin has shoulder-length dark hair.”

“Aha. Okay, now I’m feeling it.”

“This is the gruesome part. According to Kyle, Gregory Hesse shot himself in front of Kyle and Dylan Lashay, who was filming Greg playing around with his gun.”

“God! That is sickening!”

“Repulsive.” Decker shuddered. “Kyle claims that the shooting was an accident. The gun wasn’t supposed to be loaded. Kerkin could be telling the truth, or he could be spinning total lies.”

Marge said, “Who gave Gregory Hesse the gun?”

“Kerkin claimed that Dylan provided the gun. It could be that Kyle is using Dylan as his way out.”

“Even so, if it did happen, thank God that Mrs. Hesse never found the camcorder.” She looked at Decker. “Does Kyle have the camcorder?”

“Kyle claims Dylan took it when the two of them left Greg’s house.”

“You know that’s really odd,” Marge said. “We didn’t find any bloody footprints or anything to suggest that other people were there when Greg shot himself.”

“Maybe the two of them were far enough away that they didn’t get any blowback. Or maybe the entire story is bullshit. Kyle only talked to us because he was still under the idiotic notion that he could weasel his way out of charges. When he asked us if he was still under arrest and we said yes, that’s when he asked for a lawyer.”

“He really thought you were going to let him go?”

Decker said, “These particular kids have mastered the art of glib. They know how to behave in front of adults. And as of his eighteenth birthday, Kyle has joined the ranks of adulthood.”

“Kyle was packing when we picked him up,” Marge said. “He’s toast.”

“Yeah, it looks like we have plenty of stuff against all of them, ranging from kidnapping and attempted murder to gun and drug charges. It would be great if we locate Gregory Hesse’s camcorder.”

Marge said, “I’ll go pull warrants. If the camcorder is around, I’ll find it.”

“Oliver has already called up Cruz Romero for the warrants on Dylan Lashay, Cameron Cole, Kyle Kerkin, and Darla Holbein: both house and school. If Gabe is able to ID JJ Little and Nate Asaroff, we’ll get warrants on them, too. As much as I’d love to be there to toss the houses, I can’t. You’ll have to supervise.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Marge said. “When I get the warrants, I’ll go to Bell and Wakefield first: do all the lockers at the same time. I’ll send Willy to Dylan’s house, Drew to Kyle’s, and Wanda to Cameron Cole’s house. When I’m finished with B and W, I’ll go to the houses and supervise the others.”

“Perfect,” Decker said. “We’re looking for guns, drugs, and any stolen items—especially things associated with Gregory Hesse.”

Marge said, “Did you find any connection between Myra Gelb and the B and W Mafia?”

“She hasn’t come up yet, but we’ve just started.”

“So what do you think Gregory Hesse’s ‘big story’ was—if anything?”

“No idea.” Decker heard his name and turned around. Wynona Pratt gave them a wave. She wore a thin green sweater under a green glen plaid jacket, brown trousers, and boots. She looked as if she were about to go hunting, and in a way, that’s exactly what she was doing. “Darla Holbein is with her parents in your office. They’d like to see you right away.”

“They asked for me by name?”

“They’re in your office and figured out you’re the big cheese. What would you like me to say to them? Do I tell them about Gabriel or . . .”

“I’ll come in, introduce myself, and explain the situation. Then if they still want to talk to me, it’s their choice.”

“How about like right now?” Wynona said. “The Holbeins are deeply religious. They keep telling their daughter that she needs to tell the truth, that it’s the moral and Christian thing to do.”

“And they haven’t asked for a lawyer?”

“Loo, they have a lawyer with them—a man from their church. He has talked to Darla and apparently feels comfortable enough for Darla to talk to us. Her parents keep saying that this is Darla’s last chance to come clean before God. The lawyer keeps saying that Darla is lucky because she’s still a minor. I think everyone’s hoping the D.A. will go easy on her.”

“At her age, she probably won’t catch much of a break. It all depends what she has to say. I’ll be there in a minute.”

Oliver broke into the huddle. “I just got off the phone with Dylan’s stepfather—Roy Lashay. He and his wife are on their way to see Dylan with a lawyer in tow.”

“Where is Lashay?” Marge asked.

“He was transferred to Van Nuys about an hour ago,” Oliver said. “I’ve called the district attorney’s office to give them a heads-up. But one of us is going to have to be there before he’s arraigned.”

“So many charges, so little time,” Decker said.

“When will that be?” Marge asked.

Oliver said, “A couple of hours at the earliest.”

“What about the warrants?” Decker asked.

“I’m off to see the judge,” Oliver said.

Marge said, “After you’ve gotten them, wanna go to Bell and Wakefield to search some lockers?”

“Yeah, I can do that.” Oliver regarded Decker. “A word of warning, Rabbi. Roy Lashay is fuming. He’s claiming that Dylan was attacked by the girl and Gabe—who he kept calling Chris.”

Marge looked at Decker. “I told you that the robbery was the agreed-upon story when we arrested them.”

Decker said, “Seems that not everyone is sticking to the script.”

Oliver said, “Lashay was very aggressive. He said his lawyer was going to get everything thrown out because you and everyone else who works for you are obviously biased. He also called up Dylan’s biological father, who’s apparently this kingshit civil lawyer. Lashay also promised that we’re going to get sued civilly as well as criminally and by the time he’s done, none of us will own a cent.”

Decker raised an eyebrow. “It’s an obvious plan of attack and one that’s not totally without merit. I am vulnerable.”

Marge said, “Who is Dylan’s criminal defense attorney?”

Oliver blew out air. “Sanford Book.”

“Well, he’s pretty top-notch,” Decker said.

“And who’s Lashay’s kingshit lawyer/biological father?” Marge asked.

Oliver paged through his notes. “Maurice Garden. I don’t know anything about him, but I don’t know too many civil lawyers.”

“So why do I think I know him?” Marge said.

Decker said, “Google him. And while you’re at it, maybe we can find out why Dylan took his stepfather’s last name. There has to be a story there.”

“Maurice Garden . . .” Marge googled his name on her cell phone. “Oh my goodness gracious!” She grabbed Oliver’s shoulder. “Scott! The doctor we saw. Olivia Garden!”

Oliver hit his forehead. He turned to Decker. “The gun that Gregory Hesse used to shoot himself was stolen from Olivia Garden’s office about six years ago.”

Decker felt his heartbeat quicken. “Are she and Maurice related?”

Marge continued her Google search. “He is a civil lawyer . . . divorced six years ago and remarried . . . four children. His current wife is named Lily. It doesn’t say anything about Maurice’s parents.”

“Look up Olivia Garden,” Decker said.

“Okay here we . . . Dr. Olivia Garden . . . went to UCLA Medical School . . . board certified . . . married . . . aha! She has two sons, Maurice and Jonas, both of them lawyers.” Marge grinned. “I think we have a love connection, guys.”

“Both the divorce and the theft happened around six years ago,” Decker said.

Oliver said, “Maybe little Dylan went to Grandma for support.”

“And guns,” Marge said.

“He would have been around twelve,” Decker said.

“Right around puberty,” Marge noted. “When all that testosterone kicks in, turning snips and snails and puppy dog tails into snarling pit bulls.”

D
arla’s long hair hid most of her face, but the part that Decker did see was mottled and streaked with tears. Her blue eyes were swollen and red. She favored her father, Dominick, with his round ruddy face and blue eyes. Her mother, Marie, had dark eyes, high cheekbones, and short clipped gray hair. No jewelry, no makeup for Mom. Dad was dressed in a black suit, a pressed white shirt, and blue tie, almost identically to Cecil Quiller, Darla’s legal representation.

After introducing himself and explaining the situation, Decker was sure that the lawyer would jump on the bias angle to get his client out of her jam. But it was Marie Holbein who spoke up.

“The boy who was attacked is your foster son?”

Decker said, “Not technically. I don’t receive any money from the state. The kid needed a place to live, and my wife and I decided to provide him a home until he was able to go out on his own.”

“So you are also a servant of God,” Marie said.

Now that was a good sign. Decker said, “Just doing the boy a favor.”

The lawyer said, “But you do have a personal involvement with the boy.”

Decker said, “Absolutely.”

“And you’re probably more willing to believe his account of the events than the others.”

“Counselor, I’ve recused myself from the active part of the investigation. That’s why you’re with Detective Pratt and not with me.”

“What do you mean by the active part?” Quiller asked.

Wynona piped in. “He’s been acting as a traffic cop. Put this one in room one, get a photo array, pull a warrant. Things like that.”

Decker said, “I haven’t been actively interviewing any of the teenagers unless someone has specifically wanted to talk to me.”

“Has that happened?”

“Yes, that has happened.”

Marie held up her hand. “We are not here to absolve Darla on some kind of technicality, Lieutenant. That may work with other parents . . . they think they are protecting their children. In fact, they are making matters worse because what they are doing is morally wrong. Dominick and I do not defend our children at all cost. If we do that, we’re not helping Darla.”

“And I’m in absolute agreement with my wife,” Dominick said.

The two of them were a cop’s dream: they were also Darla’s worst nightmare.

Marie turned to her daughter, her eyes shining with fervor. “Darla, if you possibly hope to live a moral life, you must clear your conscience before God.”

The lawyer spoke up. “I agree with you, Marie, from the standpoint of a practicing Christian. But I do believe that I must also function as a lawyer and do what I can for Darla legally.” Quiller turned to Decker. “She’s a minor. I want her records sealed. Absolutely no jail time even in a juvenile facility. No probation, no community service. The church will make sure she pays back for her sins. But she walks away from the horrendous fiasco without a blemish.”

“Do you want me to function in my official capacity even though I’m involved with Gabriel and he lives with me?” Decker asked.

Quiller said, “If you have the capacity to help Darla out, I will be happy to work with you.”

Decker sat down. “Charges are pretty serious. It depends on what she has to say.”

“I know what she has to say, because she’s already spoken to me. Darla has never been in any kind of trouble.”

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