Page 8 of Fatal Strike
“Mr. Whitson, you’re a smart man,” Jon said. “Might need to recruit you.”
Leah held up her phone to Jon. “I’ll take the pics if you’ll record.”
Outside, humidity dripped from plants and flowers. Jon complimented him on his vegetable garden. Huge red tomatoes, green and red bell peppers, and two varieties of lettuce. Jon gazed about sixty feet over the five-foot-tall bush line to the rear door of St. Peter’s. “What happened this morning?”
“I woke early, before 6a.m., and thought I’d pick a fresh tomato from the garden. Me and the wife like ’em for breakfast. I went outside and heard a commotion at the back of the church, like a thump. I peered over there and saw two men at the rear door. They walked down the steps to a car parked real close. One of them slammed the trunk. Drove off. Didn’t think much about it until I saw the police show up around 8:30. Iwent over and learned a body had been found at the church. Itold an officer I needed to talk to whoever was in charge. They connected me to Chief of Police Everson. He told me the FBI had been called in to work the case. Before you two got here, Iheard on the news about Judge Mendez’s body left at St. Peter’s back door.”
“Are you sure of what you saw?” Leah said. “It’s still dark then.”
“There’s a light pole in the church’s parking lot, and I have one mounted back here on my garage.” Mr. Whitson pointed to both. “The lights showed me the man’s face who shut the trunk. He looked familiar, but I didn’t place him until Agent Riesel called me about your visit.” He yanked a weed shooting up from a bottlebrush. “Thought I got all them boogers.”
Jon wanted to be that spry one day. “Can you give us a name?”
“Hate to accuse a man of a vicious crime. But why were those men back there unless they were up to no good? The man was Dylan Ortega. He and his mother belong to St. Peter’s, like me and my wife. Well, his mom attends regular, and he’s there at Christmas, Easter, and Mother’s Day. You know, a holiday Christian.”
“And you’re sure his name is Dylan Ortega?”
“Yes, sir. When he was younger, he’d help me pull weeds inmy flower beds and keep the yard looking good. Great kid then. I speak to him when he comes to church. He’s changed in his looks—longer hair and an earring. Not judging those things, only noticing a difference. Sorry to say he did time for burglary a while back.”
Jon jotted down the need for a background on Ortega. “Can you describe the second person?”
“Similar build. Wore a baseball cap over his eyes.”
“Make of car?”
“When it backed out under the pole light, I caught sight of the hood. Looked like a Mustang. Dark color.”
“Dylan Ortega might have a legitimate reason for being at the church.”
“There isn’t Mass then, and even in my day young people didn’t go to confession at 6a.m.” The older man was blunt and spot-on.
“Anything else?”
“Don’t think so.”
“We appreciate your coming forward. If you think of anything you’ve missed, please contact us.” Jon gave him his business card.
“If what I saw brings justice in the judge’s death or either of those other victims, I’m glad I spoke up.” He arched his shoulders. “Oorah.”
6
LEAH LEFT THE WHITSON HOMEwith her mind on the dear retired Marine who wasn’t afraid to speak the truth. “Mr. Whitson reinforced my belief in the American people.”
“Bet he marches in every parade, and his uniform still fits,” Jon said.
She laughed, and it felt good. “Married for sixty-five years? Loved the photo of him and his wife on their wedding day. My belief in marriage rose several notches.”
“Depends on the commitment, I guess.”
Leah shook away any thoughts of her own parents’ forty-year marriage. Back to business. She stopped at the passenger door of Jon’s truck. “I’ll pull up Ortega’s address. Finding him takes precedence over talking to Father Gabriel or the other neighbors.”
“Would you contact Chief of Police Everson to see if he has additional information about Dylan Ortega?”
She pressed in the number, and Everson answered on the first ring. She explained the conversation with Edgar Whitson. “We’re heading to his address now.”
“He hasn’t had an issue with us since his arrest for armed robbery,” Everson said. “Keep me posted.”
“Thanks.” Leah laid her phone on her lap. “Let’s hold off on a BOLO until we have a chance to question him.”
