Free Night Mask by William W. Johnstone Page B

P.M. on a Wednesday night,” Leo said. “Where were you?”
    â€œOn the air. Check the logs and the engineer on duty.”
    Lani smiled. “We already have. Thanks for your cooperation, BJ. I enjoy your show.”
    Back in the car, Leo said, “We handle Dick Hale with kid gloves. He doesn’t wield as much stroke as he thinks he does, but he’s got enough to make things uncomfortable if we work it wrong.”
    Dick was all winks and good-ol’-boy talk and gestures. “Oh, sure. Tammy and I got it on a few times. You know how it is, Leo. Man’s got to have some strange from time to time.”
    â€œNo,” Leo said, his dislike for the man extremely difficult for him to conceal. “I don’t know. But you understand that we have to check out every name in her address book?”
    â€œOh, I suppose so. Stupid broad shouldn’t have had my name in that damn book. This could be embarrassing.”
    â€œWe’ll be discreet,” Lani said drily.
    Dick picked up on her dislike and flushed. Bitch! he thought. Ought to be home taking care of babies and leave the police work to men. He smiled at her, but it was forced.
    Under questioning, Dick finally admitted that he could not prove where he was between six and ten the night Tammy was killed and skinned. “I was just driving around,” he said. “No law against that, is there?”
    â€œNo, sir,” Leo said, and the two cops then left Dick’s office.
    Back in the car, Lani said, “God, how I dislike that creep!”
    â€œI don’t think he had anything to do with Tammy’s death, Lani, but let’s run him.”
    It didn’t take long and both cops looked at the printout with renewed interest. “Premed in college,” Lani said. “Studying to be a surgeon. Wonder why he didn’t finish?”
    â€œHe had to come back here to take over the radio and TV stations,” Sheriff Brownwood answered that question, standing in the office door. “After his parents died. You two actually think Dick Hale is the Ripper?”
    â€œNo,” Leo said quickly. “But this could be a bad copycat. It’s the first time in more than one hundred victims that the entire body was skinned.”
    Brownie came in and sat down on the edge of the desk. “Lay it all out, gang. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
    â€œHow did Tammy get the money to buy that lounge?” Lani asked. “She went from a cocktail waitress to a club owner overnight.”
    â€œDid Dick give or loan it to her?” Leo asked. “Was she blackmailing him?”
    â€œNeither one of us think Dick killed her,” Lani said. “But there are some questions that need answering.”
    â€œThen find out,” the sheriff said. “I know how you both work. You’re not going to ride rough over Dick. I—”
    He stopped at the ringing of the phone and motioned for one of them to take it. Lani did and listened for a moment. “Look, give me your name. I ... ” She fell silent and began scribbling on a note pad. “Wait a minute, sir! Wait. Don’t hang up.” She grimaced and hung up the phone.
    â€œWhat’d you got?” Leo asked.
    â€œA citizen who wouldn’t give his name. Said he saw Dick Hale and Tammy Larson together about seven o’clock on the evening she was killed. Said they appeared to be arguing. Said they were in Dick’s Cadillac and heading north out of town, up into the hills. Said he was sorry, but he didn’t want to get involved. Then he hung up.”
    Before Brownie could speak, another detective walked in. “Tammy’s bank records. I just got them. For the last two years, a thousand dollars every month from Dick Hale’s personal account.”
    â€œThanks, Ernie,” Leo said, taking the statements. To Lani: “Before we pull Dick in for another chat. Let’s have one more go at William Jarry. I