The Survivors Club by J. Carson Black

reached them. He was dressed casually—Docker-type slacks and a short-sleeved shirt. Casual or not, the clothes were several cuts above Macy’s. He had brown hair, was tanned and fit. Tess couldn’t see his eyes because he wore aviator shades.
    “I’m Alec Sheppard,” he said, holding out his hand to Tess and then to Danny.
    The guy had a way of taking over. It was subtle, but Tess knew it when she saw it. Not overbearing. He was used to starting the conversation and setting the tone—she guessed he was successful in whatever endeavor he pursued.
    “Are you with homicide?” he asked.
    “We’re homicide,” Danny said, “But with Santa Cruz County.”
    Tess thought her partner sounded eager to please.
    This guy Sheppard had a way of making you want to talk to him.
    “Maybe you could help me anyway. Do you know what happened to Steve Barkman? This is a homicide scene?”
    Tess said, “What’s your interest in this, Mr. Sheppard? Are you related to Mr. Barkman?”
    “No. We’re friends. He was doing a job for me, and now I’m wondering if it got him killed.”

CHAPTER 18
    Tess and Danny sat in on the interview at the Tucson Police Department midtown substation. The substation was located near the Reid Park Zoo—Tess thought this was appropriate, considering the many strange people who found themselves under the bank of fluorescent lights and in trouble. Cheryl Tedesco found a room big enough for the four of them. She rounded up sodas, water, and coffee and sat Alec Sheppard down at the postage-stamp table. Tess and Danny were strictly observers.
    After her introduction on the tape recorder, Cheryl got down to it. “You told us that Steve Barkman was working for you?”
    “Not officially. He was looking into something for me.”
    “But you paid him?”
    “I did, yes. I paid him expenses, and sent him some money for his time.”
    “What was he looking into?”
    “It’s a little hard to explain.” Sheppard was one of the few people who didn’t look washed out like aged cheese under the fluorescent lights. “This is going to sound outlandish. Steve was looking into an incident that happened to me a couple of weeks ago.”
    “This was a job he was doing for you?”
    “He wanted to do it as a favor to me, but I thought he should be paid.”
    “Why would he do that?”
    “We were roommates at the University of Arizona. A long time ago.”
    “What work did he do?”
    “He was looking for someone for me.”
    “And who was he looking for?”
    “He didn’t say.”
    Tess tried not to react. She kept her face bland. Now Barkman was dead and the lead he was following might be dead with him. “Why didn’t he say?”
    “He told me he wanted to be sure first.”
    “And that’s why you’re here?”
    “I wanted to see for myself if the person Steve was tracking was the guy I saw last month on a jump.”
    “On a jump? What do you mean by ‘on a jump?’”
    “I’m a skydiver.”
    “And this guy Barkman is tracking, he’s also a skydiver?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “But you said you met him on a jump.”
    “It’s a long story.”

    It was going on five p.m. and the sun was lowering in the sky when Tess and Danny walked out to the parking lot.
    Danny said, “So this guy Sheppard comes here because Steve Barkman has a hot tip on a guy who aimed his finger at him?”
    “The guy aimed his finger at him right before he jumped out of a plane and his chute didn’t open. I can see why he’d come here.”
    “You believe the guy.”
    “What does he have to gain?”
    “Hey, guera , if you don’t know…”
    Tess knew what Danny was talking about: people who liked to attach themselves to investigations, who got a vicarious thrill from being in on what the police were doing. “He doesn’t strike me that way, Dan.”
    Danny mumbled something.
    “What did you say?”
    “Guy bothers me, is all. What about this bullshit about a jogger putting a sticker on his chest?”
    Tess had to admit that