Thomas Blackhorse's Arc

Chapter 7 of 17

Thomas drove back to his office with the two notes in his pocket. Same three words on both. Different hand on the warning. He needed to know which hand belonged to Juanita Casablanca before he named anyone. Guess wrong and he'd hand Casablanca a shield. Guess wrong and some clerk or cousin would take a bullet meant for the truth. He spread both notes on the desk under the lamp. The cactus threw a spiked shadow across the paper. The locker note and the fresh "I'm still here" matched stroke for stroke. Left-leaning capitals. A hooked lowercase r. The writer had preserved the note eight years and written the new one this week. That was one person. The warning below it, "Tell Blackhorse to stop," was blockier, pressed harder, different pen. That was Casablanca. He was sure of the split. He was not sure of the name. He picked up the desk phone and called Ray Kowalski. "I need the original Delgado file," Thomas said. "Every witness statement with a signature. I need the handwriting." Ray breathed out slow on the other end. Thomas pictured him at his cluttered desk, tie loose, the shirt straining at the belt. "Thomas. I told you last time was last time." "You told me you owed me one. This is it." A long pause. "Meet me behind the diner in an hour. I'm not walking a file into your office." Ray came in a personal car and passed a manila folder through the Jeep window without stopping the engine. "Don't call me again about this," he said, and drove off before Thomas could answer. Thomas took the folder back to the office. He laid out every signed statement next to the locker note. He worked past midnight. Delivery drivers. Teachers. A janitor who had moved to Yuma. None matched. He was down to the last three when he found it. A supplemental witness form. A neighbor who had reported a car near the school the night before the girl vanished. The signature was small and neat and meant nothing. But at the bottom, in the officer's notes section, someone had written a correction in a second hand. Left-leaning capitals. A hooked lowercase r. He checked the officer's badge line. Not an officer. A civilian aide who had logged evidence that spring. The name was typed above the initials. J. Casablanca. Thomas sat back. The preserver of the note and the killer's warning were not two people. They were one. Juanita Casablanca had hidden the note in the girl's locker eight years ago and left it there for someone to find. Casablanca had also written the warning at Miguel's apartment, in a second pen, to make Thomas think there were two. The civilian aide who logged the evidence had buried the case from inside the department. Thomas closed the folder. He knew the name now. And the name knew his.