Crunch Time Read Online Free PDF Page A

Ernest was killed less than a quarter-mile from his house. Our guys are combing the scene, which isn’t far from my, from our”—he choked up again, then composed himself—“property line. Ernest must have been . . . I don’t know, walking into town, hiking. . . . Our house is about a third of a mile from his, just above the back entrance to Aspen Hills.” John crossed his arms again. “That section of Aspen Hills is pretty deserted, because most folks don’t know about that way in, and if they do find it, they usually give up, because the road winds a bit.”
    I thought of Yolanda saying strange cars had been driving by and slowing down. Had she gotten a license plate?
    John swallowed. “Ernest has, had, fifteen acres. I bought a couple of lots below his, so I could build our house and a big garage to work on my cars and trucks. There’s a whole field of boulders just above the garage, below the forest service road. I didn’t want somebody coming in and blasting, then putting in a house. . . .” He paused and, without embarrassment, tugged the tissue from his pocket and wiped tears from his eyes. “I can’t believe he’s gone.”
    “How has Yolanda seemed this morning?” Tom asked me.
    “Her ex-boyfriend is driving her nuts. Plus, she was scared of Ernest’s clients. She’s a wreck.”
    “A wreck, huh?” Tom said. “You think it’s because of the clients or because of the ex-boyfriend?”
    “I don’t know. She’s just nervous. As I told you before, she doesn’t have any money and she has to take care of her great-aunt. Any one would be a catastrophe.”
    “I suppose,” he replied. His green eyes regarded me thoughtfully. “I do think she has money, though. We found seventeen thousand dollars, cash, under a mattress in the guest room at Ernest’s house.”
    “Seventeen thou— Wait. You searched a guest room when it was obvious someone was staying there?” I asked. “Did you have a warrant?”
    “Miss G.,” said Tom, “don’t start. And don’t mention it to Yolanda, please. We know it’s inadmissible, if it comes to that. I’m just telling you, she has money. We were looking for a weapon. And anyway—” Before Tom could elaborate on one of his favorite topics, which was that people should never keep valuables in the freezer, the back of their closet, or under their mattress, because those were the first places someone looking for weapons or valuables would search, Yolanda returned to the kitchen. She clenched a handful of tissues.
    “Yolanda,” Tom said, his voice kind, “please come with us down to the department, just to answer a few—”
    “I can’t,” she said firmly, lifting her chin. “Aunt Ferdinanda is at the church, and I told the monsignor I’d pick her up at five. I have to . . . I want to . . . I mean, if Ernest is dead, then his friends need to be called, and then I . . .” Words failed her. After a moment, she said, “I should finish with Goldy, then get Ferdinanda, then go back—” Her mouth hung open and she blinked. Then go back where? She straightened with newfound resolve. “I have to go back to Ernest’s to take care of his puppies.”
    “His what ?” I said. Yolanda hadn’t mentioned any puppies.
    Tom gave me a be-quiet look. “Yeah, we saw all those dogs.” He didn’t elaborate, but seemed to be considering Yolanda. “Okay, look. We won’t make you go down to the department. But we need to ask you some questions.” He pulled a recorder out of his pocket. “And I need to tell you, anything you say can and will be used against you . . .” By the time he’d finished the whole Miranda speech, I thought I was the one who was going to run to the bathroom.
    “I have nothing to hide,” said Yolanda, lifting her chin.
    Tom tapped the recorder. “I need your permission to use this.”
    Yolanda looked miserable again. She used a tissue to wipe her face.
    I pressed my lips together and said, “Yolanda, please remember what Tom