Page 53 of The Girl from Devil’s Lake (Joanna Brady Mysteries #21)

One by one she examined the remaining bags.

There were several barrettes, and a number of earrings, four different class rings, a glow-in-the-dark cross pendant like the one Joanna had received as a kid after attending Daily Vacation Bible School, and a piece of what looked like yellow plastic tape.

A tiny piece of crime scene tape? Joanna wondered.

There was also a folded-up map of New Mexico, evidently torn from an old-fashioned Rand McNally Atlas .

A number of X’s showed in the margins. When Joanna started to count them, Casey stopped her.

“Don’t bother,” she said. “I already did. There are twenty-three.”

The next item Joanna spotted was a tiny pearl-handled pistol, also in a sealed evidence bag, sitting off to one side, away from the others.

“Is that what he used to try to kill himself?” she asked.

Casey nodded. “It’s an antique—a single-round derringer pistol with a serial number that indicates it was manufactured by Remington in 1927.

The weapon may have been fired at some time in the past, but I’m pretty sure it was never cleaned.

There was a live bullet inside, but the works were so gummed up with a century’s worth of dirt and grime that it’s no wonder it didn’t fire. ”

Next to the pistol was another evidence bag, which initially appeared to be empty.

Examining it closely, however, Joanna realized that a second plastic bag held what looked like a plain old sandwich bag, the kind that predated Ziploc ones.

The second bag appeared to contain a thin film of whitish powder.

“What’s with the sandwich bag?” Joanna asked.

“Interesting question,” Casey replied. “The powdery residue inside it turns out to be a combination of LSD and cocaine. The same powder turned up on the exterior of the pistol. I’m guessing that, for some reason, the gun was stored inside the bag. No idea why.”

“And what about money?” Joanna asked. “Deb mentioned something about finding some money in his vehicle.”

“Not just some money,” Casey replied. “A lot of money! A cool hundred and fifty thousand bucks, all of it in hundreds, was in a bag in his suitcase along with the trophy case. And no, I didn’t count all the bills.

I counted the bills in one bundle and then I counted the bundles.

I already locked the money in the evidence room. ”

“How many shoelaces?” Joanna asked.

“I won’t know the exact number until I finish picking them apart.”

“And then there’s a blue duffel bag somewhere?” Joanna asked.

“There certainly is,” Casey said, pointing to another counter.

“It’s over there. I didn’t do much more than glance at it.

Marliss Shackleford’s purse and presumably her computer were the only things inside, but about the bag itself, and just so you know, the dye lot listed on the label is the same as the one we found on the bag that was fished out of the San Pedro with Xavier Delgado’s body in it. ”

Joanna glanced at the clock. Caught up in examining the evidence, she had lost track of time. “Oops,” she said. “I’m fifteen minutes late for my own press conference, but I’m pretty sure nobody’s leaving until I show up. Are you going to call it a day soon?”

Casey shook her head. “Not until every single shoelace from that frigging cigar box is properly bagged and tagged.”

Joanna went to the press conference then.

In the course of it, she didn’t reveal Stephen Roper’s name because he had not yet been officially charged.

She referred to him only as a “longtime Bisbee resident.” She allowed as how the investigation into Xavier Delgado’s death had led detectives to believe that the suspect in that case might possibly be a serial killer.

She also mentioned that earlier in the afternoon, when investigators had gone to the suspect’s home to execute a search warrant, they had found his most recent victim, another Bisbee resident whose name was also being withheld pending notification of next of kin.

The reporters weren’t happy with only a bare-bones outline of what would most likely turn out to be a bombshell story, but that was all Sheriff Joanna Brady was prepared to give them.

Her audience was still grumbling about that as she left the room, but she had more important things on her mind.

She had promised several people that she would keep them apprised of the progress of the investigation, and she intended to do just that.

One call went to Dan Hogan, the former sheriff of Polk County, who had recognized Stephen Roper for what he was, even as an eleven-year-old kid.

Joanna told him that her CSIs had found a wedding band that might well be Lucille Hawkins’s missing wedding ring.

Another call went to Luke Running Deer, telling him that an ivory-handled switchblade presumed to be Amanda’s had been located and her likely killer was in custody.

Luke was floored. “You really caught him then?” he asked in disbelief. “After all these years?”

“Yes, we did,” Joanna replied. “What tripped him up was evidence found at your sister’s crime scene.”

“So Amanda helped you catch him?”

“She certainly did,” Joanna replied. “A girl from Devil’s Lake helped bring down a monster.”

Joanna’s next call was to Marvin Begay at his home, telling him about finding Michael Young’s red bandanna.

She also left a message on Sheriff Ed Cox’s answering machine in Fulton, Missouri, letting him know that several sneaker shoelaces had been found to be in Stephen Roper’s possession, one of which might well belong to Lucianne Highsmith.

After that a totally drained Sheriff Brady went home where she downed not one, but two helpings of Butch’s still-warm green chili casserole.

Over that, bit by bit, she told him the story of her day—all of it, with no holdbacks.

He listened gravely, nodding as she went but saying very little.

The last things she mentioned were the heartbreaking phone calls she’d made before heading home.

“That’s it?” Butch asked finally.

She nodded.

“What a hell of a day!”

Joanna nodded again.

“You did good work, though,” he added. “You caught the bastard. He’s sleeping behind bars tonight.”

“But Marliss is dead,” Joanna retorted, “and it’s my fault! If I hadn’t told Garth and Deb to wait for her to leave Roper’s place before executing that warrant...”

“Marliss put herself in that position,” Butch countered.

“And your not sending the detectives in with a search warrant while an innocent civilian was present was not only the right thing to do, it was also the responsible thing to do. For all you know, there’s a good chance that Marliss could have been pushed into that crawl space long before Garth and Deb arrived on the scene.

If that were the case, no telling how long it would have taken to find her. ”

“You’re saying that no matter what I did or didn’t do, she probably would have died anyway?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Butch replied, taking Joanna’s hand in his. “Do you have any idea why she went there in the first place?”

“Because of her cleaning lady,” Joanna answered. “She told Deb that the cleaning lady’s brother-in-law mentioned that people were looking at Senor Santa Claus in regard to the Delgado homicide.”

“So Marliss’s informant wasn’t from inside your department after all.”

“No, he wasn’t,” Joanna agreed.

“The thing you need to remember, Joey, is that Marliss Shackleford sealed her own fate the moment she stepped inside Stephen Roper’s front door.”

Joanna thought about that for a moment before responding. “Thank you for that,” she said. “Maybe now I’ll be able to sleep.”