Hidden Riches

want to talk to the coroner, the investigating officers.”
    “Give me the names.” Jed wrote down the information.
    “I’m going to fax them back as soon as I hang up with you,” Brent continued. “Tell them that you were on a related investigation out there. They’ll be ready for you.”
    “Thanks. I’ll be in touch.”
    Dora was sitting up in bed, her chin resting on her drawn-up knees, studying Jed when he hung up the phone. “You’ve got cop all over your face. It’s an interesting metamorphosis to witness.”
    “Why don’t you order up some breakfast?” He was already out of bed and on his way to the shower. “We’re going to have to take a later flight.”
    “All right.” She heard the water start. Her jaw clenched. Tossing back the covers, she marched into the bathroom, yanked back the shower curtain. “It’s not enough to give orders, Captain. Some of us recruits require minimal information.”
    “I’ve got something to check on.” He scooped up the soap. “In or out, Conroy, you’re getting water all over the floor.”
    “What do you have to check on?”
    He decided the issue himself by reaching out and tugging the nightshirt over her head. She didn’t object when he lifted her up and into the tub with him. Saying nothing, she adjusted the hot water so that it wouldn’t blister the skin. She dragged the wet hair out of her eyes. “What do you have to check on?” she repeated.
    “DiCarlo,” he said flatly. “They’ve found him.”

CHAPTER
TWENTY-SEVEN
    S heriff Curtis Dearborne harbored an innate distrust of outsiders. Since he considered any member of the LAPD an outsider, an East Coast cop was an entity to be watched with extra care.
    He was a towering, well-muscled man who wore his uniform proudly starched, kept his sandy moustache well trimmed and lightly waxed, and spit-polished his boots. Beneath his military sense of polish and style lurked a well of country-boy charm that he used cleverly and with great success.
    He rose from his desk when Jed and Dora entered. His square, handsome face was set in serious lines, his handshake was dry and firm.
    “Captain Skimmerhorn. Pretty handy you being out our way when we identify the John Doe.”
    Jed summed up his man instantly. Dearborne was goingto be territorial. Jed’s first move was to acknowledge Dearborne’s authority.
    “I appreciate your passing on the information, Sheriff. I’m sure Lieutenant Chapman filled you in on the mess we’ve got back home. This quick work on your part will be some comfort to Officer Trainor’s widow.”
    It was exactly the right button. Dearborne’s eyes frosted, his mouth thinned. “Your lieutenant told me the corpse was a cop killer. I’m only sorry the coyotes didn’t take more of an interest in him. Sit down, Captain, Miss Conroy.”
    “Thanks.” Stemming impatience, Jed took a seat. If he rushed Dearborne, it would probably cost him hours of time in diplomacy. “I was told there was no identification on the body.”
    “Not a lick.” Dearborne’s chair creaked comfortably as he sat back. “But we ruled out robbery right off. The wallet was gone, but the guy had a diamond on his pinkie and one of those gold chains around his neck.” Dearborne sneered just enough to let Jed know he considered such trappings suspiciously unmasculine. “The body wasn’t in such good shape, but I didn’t need the coroner to tell me how he bought it. He’d been gut-shot. Not much blood on the tarp he’d been wrapped in though. Stands to reason the body had been moved after he bled to death. Probably took a good long nasty time. Begging your pardon, ma’am,” he said for Dora’s benefit. “Coroner confirmed it.”
    “I’d like a look at the coroner’s report, if that’s all right,” Jed began. “And any physical evidence you’ve gathered. The more I go back with, the better.”
    Dearborne drummed his fingers on the desk as he considered. East Coast wasn’t pushy, he decided. “I think we can accommodate you there. We’ve got the tarp and what’s left of his clothes downstairs. I’ll have the rest of the paperwork brought in after you’ve finished. If you want a look at the body, we’ll take a run down to the coroner’s.”
    “I’d appreciate that. If Miss Conroy could wait here?” he said as Dora started to rise.
    “That’s fine.” Dearborne admired a woman who knew her place. “You just make yourself comfortable.”
    “Thank you, Sheriff. I wouldn’t want to