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I le nodded and looked around. “I take it they’re not here yet?”
“Not so far. You’re welcome to wait in my office if you like.”
She led him through a security door and down the long hallway to the suite of private offices at the back of the building. Joa
Gratefully, Burton sank down on the long leather sofa that, along with the oversized desk and all the other furnishings, were hand-me-downs dating from the administration of Walter V. McFadden, Joa
In local law enforcement circles, Burton Kimball had a reputation for attracting an oddball and sometimes difficult clientele. Ruby Starr qualified on both counts. She and her husband had come to Bisbee with the intention of opening a fine dining establishment. The husband had been supposed to provide the business expertise while Ruby was expected to do the cooking. Their partnership and marriage both had come to grief in a domestic dispute that started with Ruby going through the house and nailing her husband’s discarded dirty clothes to the hardwood floor. The battle had escalated into a sledgehammer-to-windshield finale that had put Ruby Starr in the county jail charged with criminal assault.
She just happened to be there-with Burton Kimball on retainer as her attorney-when the jail’s previous cook made off in the middle of the night, taking with him all the fixings for the jail inmates’ Thanksgiving di
Joa
After a few minutes of small-town talk about whose kids were doing what over the summer, Joa
“I hardly know him at all,” Burton admitted. “His uncle, Frank, and I played football at the same time. Not exactly together, since we were on opposite teams. Still, we knew one another by reputation. Over the years, I’ve done some work for Frank, including legalizing Frank and Yolanda’s informal guardianship of their nephew-Frank’s sister’s son-Iggy.”
“That’s what they call him, Iggy?”
Burton shook his head. “No, I picked that up from reading a newspaper article about his football exploits. His family calls him Pepito.”
The phone rang just then and Joa
Burton Kimball rose to his feel and smoothed his jacket, twitching at once from his at-ease demeanor to something far more businesslike. “If it’s at all possible, I’d like to meet with my client in private for a few minutes before we go into one of the interview rooms.”
“Certainly,” Joa
Joa
Burton Kimball seemed to read her mind. “Don’t worry, Sheriff Brady,” he said. “Ignacio Ybarra won’t take off. I give you my word.”
Nodding, Joa
“How do you do, Mr. Ybarra,” Joa
Anxiously, Ignacio peered around the room. “I thought Mr. Kimball was supposed to be here,” he said.
“He is,” Joa
With a glance over his shoulder at a fuming Detective Carpenter, Ignacio Ybarra walked past them both and into the sheriff’s private office while Joa
“We don’t have to do this,” Ernie grumbled. “Allowing them a private conversation isn’t required by law. And why leave them alone in your office? What if Ybarra takes off?”
“He won’t,” Joa
“You’re telling me Kimball claims he doesn’t know him?” Shaking his head, Ernie broke off in disgust. “I doubt that. When we picked Ybarra up, he just happened to have Burton Kimball’s home telephone number on him. In a pencil-written note in his shirt pocket. That doesn’t much sound like strangers to me. And when he made his single phone call, all Ybarra had to do was tell Burton Kimball his name and the attorney says he’ll be right here. Which he is, by the way.”
“That’s all that was said, Ignacio Ybarra’s name?”
Ernie consulted his notes. “That’s right. Ybarra says, ‘It’s me, Mr. Kimball, Ignacio Ybarra,’ and then he hangs up. Burton Kimball drops everything on a Sunday night and scoots right over here. Yup, I’m sure they’re strangers.” The sarcasm in Ernie’s voice wasn’t lost on Joa
“So you’re saying Burton Kimball had already been alerted to some coming legal difficulty long before you and Jaime showed up at Ignacio’s house?”
“You bet. Mr. Ybarra may have put on an Academy Award-worthy performance when we told him Bria
“What do you think did happen?” Joa
“My guess is that he and Bria
“Without any clothes on?” Joa
“Not so far,” he grunted, “but I’m working on it.”
The door to Joa
“How about right here?” Joa
They settled into places, with Ignacio and Burton Kimball pearling themselves in the two matching captain’s chairs. Ernie assumed the love seat, while Joa
Ernie didn’t waste any time. “All right, Mr. Ybarra. May I call you Iggy?”
Ignacio shrugged. “I like Nacio better, but Iggy’s okay.”
“Very well, Nacio. Why don’t you tell us in your own words exactly what your relationship was to the dead woman.”
Ignacio Ybarra winced at the words. His face paled. “We were in love,” he said softly. “We wanted to get married someday.’’