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Milo said, “Barlett worked that late?”
“Father Hernandez told me he made his own hours. He’s that kind of guy, Father. Easygoing. If he wasn’t, attendance would be even lower.”
“The church is struggling?”
“Too much God competition,” said Cifuentes. “For Catholics, there’s a bigger fancier place a few miles up, plus a Baptist church and bunch of others, don’t know the denominations offhand. Then there’sall these smaller Pentecostals operating out of houses that the Salvadorans and the Guatemalans like.”
“What did Barlett do at the church?”
“Clerk-type stuff according to Father and my wife confirms it. She says Richard was nice but kept to himself. Like I said, delicate.”
“Effeminate.”
“Hah. Are we allowed to say that?” said Cifuentes.
“Between us we are,” said Milo. “Your wife thinks he was gay.”
“So does one of our officers, she prays at St. Jerome’s almost as often as Ramona. First thing she said when she found out about Richard, was it a gay thing, did it happen in Ojai or something. I told her it was at the church and she was freaked out. We’ve never had a problem there, no one lifting the collection plate, no silver or anything else missing. People respect the church. You really think this could be tied in to yours?”
“I really do.”
“Great,” said Cifuentes. “So how about I pay you—what’s the word, Icommissionyou to take over.”
Milo said, “What’s your offer?”
Cifuentes laughed. “Not going to lie, I’m not thrilled to catch this one. Which isn’t to say I won’t work it, I will, I’ll work it hard. Started to do that the moment I got to the scene. Just spent some time at Barlett’s place. Basically a cabin on an orange grove, looks like it was once a storage shed or something. Landlord’s a rich grower lives mostly in Tahoe, goes to the church when she’s in town, Father got Richard the rental. Which wasn’t exactly big-ticket, I found some rent receipts, he was paying three hundred a month and could come and go as he pleased. Only people he’d come into contact with would be seasonal pickers, a few permanent ranch hands, and the manager, who I also know, very stand-up lady, she was out of town. Good luck getting anything out of the seasonals and none of the hands had a thing to say about Richard. He kept to himself, never had a visitor they saw.”
“Anything interesting on his phone?”
“If only. It was in his pocket at the scene, I went over what was on it. Not much to go over, called no one, didn’t get called so I guess he really was a loner. He called your victim two months ago? Must’ve deleted.”
“She called him.”
“Only that once,” said Cifuentes.
“That’s all I’ve got in seven months of log,” said Milo. “Before that, she had another carrier impossible to identify. Be nice if Richard’s records go back further.”
“He had a year’s worth and it boiled down to basically three, four calls to the church. I got a real hermit feel from his place.”
“Nothing interesting there.”
“I wish. We’re talking like a twelve-by-twelve room, plywood on the walls, a john, and a crappy little kitchen-type dealie with a camping fridge and a hotplate. Nope, nothing personal in there, not even a snapshot, just cutouts from calendars on the walls. My thought was this guy’s living more like a priest than Father Hernandez. A monk, actually.”
“Bad victim,” said Milo.
“How so?”
“No attachments, no leads.”
“Ah,” said Cifuentes. “Guess so. Haven’t had time to think about it much. Like I said, murder isn’t our thing, we recover a stolen car stereo, we throw a party.”
“Is it worth my time to come up and look at the crime scene?”
“Feel free but what you’re gonna see is a parking lot that’s cleaner than it was before the shooting. Minute the tape was down, church ladies were scrubbing.”
“Maybe we’ll pass,” said Milo.
“That would be me,” said Sam Cifuentes. “We’ll talk if there’s something to talk about, right?”
