Hammer listened to the entire story without interrupting once, which was most unusual for her. But she was clearly shocked and concerned.
“According to some of the e-mail tips Trooper Truth’s been getting,” Andy went on, “Trish Thrash went by the initials T.T., and of late people had been teasing her about being Trooper Truth. Because of the initials, I’m saying. And she was getting a big kick out of it and often commented that she wished she was Trooper Truth because she wanted to be a journalist but ended up a data entry clerk for the state.”
He fell silent, deeply saddened by the thought of the poor woman never realizing her dream and then wishing she were Trooper Truth, and now she was dead.
“So do you think she met the killer and talked to him?” Hammer supposed. “Maybe she told him the same quirky anecdote about people teasing her about Trooper Truth and that she wished she was Trooper Truth, and she then trusted this stranger enough to go off with him somewhere?”
“That’s exactly what I think, but I’m hesitating on the gender issue. Other tips I’ve gotten indicated T.T. wasn’t likely to go off with a man and certainly wouldn’t let one pick her up unless it was at work, where she lived a lie because she feared repercussions from her bigoted boss. So her M.O. was to dress rather tough and hang out in bars on nights and weekends, looking for same-sex company. She apparently called a friend the night of her death and said she was going to Tobacco Company, which is a very nice place and not the sort of hangout where you’d expect whacko people. So I’m assuming whoever T.T. met, it wasn’t anyone people would notice or not trust. Not that I’m saying she met anyone in Tobacco Company. We don’t know where she met her killer, not yet. I–through Trooper Truth–have been forwarding all this information to Detective Slipper, by the way. So hopefully he’s following up on it.”
“But what none of this begins to explain is why the killer left evidence at your house, Andy,” Hammer said, her face tense with fear. “I’m worried about your safety, for God’s sake! This is a vicious psychopath and now he’s stalking you!”
“Frankly,” Andy said, “I’m not convinced that the killer is a man or is working alone. Let me remind you that Moses Custer was also cut with a razorlike weapon.”
“A woman highway pirate who is committing hate crimes?” Hammer asked dubiously.
“It’s such a ridiculous misnomer for people to assume that women aren’t violent and capable of the same awful things men do,” Andy replied. “Hate is hate. And I think it might be a good plan for me to address that in Trooper Truth soon.”
Cat was unfolding his own plan while this steamy conversation was going on miles away on the other side of the James River. The road dog had borrowed the
Land Cruiser, which this minute was parked at the state police hangar, inconspicuously tucked between two other civilian cars. After hours of waiting, Cat was finally rewarded when Macovich appeared in the sky and landed the 430 that he had just flown to Tangier Island to pick up fresh seafood.
Macovich had to admit that those Tangierians were the strangest people on earth. Although they had declared war on Virginia and were flying a flag with a crab on it, the instant they realized Macovich had shown up for the single-minded purpose of buying something, they took down the crab flag and hoisted the Virginia flag. Then they doubled the price for the governor’s dinner.
“I don’t guess you know anything about that dentist you got hid somewhere on this island.” Macovich had at least made an attempt to investigate the kidnapping while the lady at the cash register gave him change in pennies.
“The dentist? I haven’t seen him of lately,” the woman replied. Macovich didn’t believe her and couldn’t help but notice that she had the worst crowns he had ever seen.
“He cap your teeth?” Macovich asked.
“Yass.” The Tangier woman, whose name was Mattie Dize, flashed Macovich a snow-white, chalky smile as he pocketed ninety-two pennies.