Chapter One
The world may hate liars, cheaters and thieves, but
not this gal. I have a job because of them. My name is Jackie Blue and I live
east of East LA.
“That’s it, come to papa,” I muttered while shooting
six pictures with my Sony Cybershot of Ronald Johansen playing golf with his
buddies.
Dumb ass Ronald supposedly had what he and his
doctors called a messed up spine caused by a half story fall at a construction
site near the LA airport. This joker had been receiving workers comp pay for
seven months for that ‘injury’ and his insurance company had grown rightly
suspicious.
A bug landed on my head as I lay underneath a bush
about 60 yards from Ronald’s group on the 16th tee. My scent from no
shower that morning wasn’t too bad but maybe the bug thought differently. A black
dog suddenly bolted across the fairway and spotted me under the bush. Zeroing
in on my awkward position, the dog stopped right over me and began to bark
excitedly.
“That’s enough for today,” I whispered to myself.
Slithering out from the bush, my eyes connected with
Ronald’s - the chase was on. I had a solid lead on him, was totally confident I
could out run him to my car in the parking lot, but whether my 13 year old
Honda Accord, that had been making some strange noises all day, would start,
was the $60,000 question.
I sprinted across the 14th green, entered
the parking lot, and noticed that Ronald was faster than he looked. The Honda
was parked in the back of the quarter filled lot. As I hopped into the car, I
saw that Ronald was now only 40 or so yards away. The Honda started for a few
seconds before dying. A second try produced nothing and I could practically see
Ronald’s eyes growing wider.
“Come on, you blasted car…start!”
Nothing…just the whirring of the starter. Ronald, by
now, was only a few yards away from the parking lot, so I had maybe one or two
more tries to start the vehicle before disaster. I pounded on the steering
wheel with my fist and tried again. The engine started. I tapped the gas and
threw the car into reverse. I didn’t catch Ronald until maybe 10 yards from the
lot exit. He came from my left with a huge golf club in his hand and I had no
choice but to floor it.
“You bitch!” he shouted before mightily swinging the
club and connecting with my back passenger door and window. The sound was crazy
loud, but I bounded into the street and turned to see Ronald fuming with his
buddies.
Welcome to my sexy, wildly exciting life at its peak.
That dramatic moment produced six pictures and had required several days of
research of this yahoo Ronald, spent mostly in my Accord.
I am a 26 year old investigator mainly dealing with
folks who are cheating on their insurance. When these companies need someone to
crawl under a bush or climb a tree to catch the cheaters, they call me. It
keeps me busy almost every day, but, like I said, it’s pretty boring work. I
live at Sunshine Trailer Park at 9563 East Garvey Avenue in South El Monte, CA.
My trailer is owned by Alonsa Barbosa and his wife, Teresita, a sweet couple
who loves to have me over for dinner at their trailer down the street. Always
the best meal of the week for me.
I glanced back at the window that Ronald had nailed
and noticed just a small crack. My dang car started making some funky noise
first thing this morning and I knew it was only a matter of time before the No
Money God and I would have a little talk. My monthly rent on the trailer is
$495 and most months I’m short. Damn.
My cell began to buzzed as I flew through a green
light. It was Rocky Venezuela, a probation officer for the LA County Courts.
“Rocky, what up, girl?”
She and I had been friends since the 2nd grade
and I offered my investigative services to her on a few occasions. Given that
judges are so busy these days, Rocky is charged with striking deals with smaller
crimes like domestic abuse, drunk driving and small profile white collar crimes.
“Crappy, crappy day,” Rocky shouted into the phone.
“A guy that stole a few hundred thousand from a software company agreed to a
prison deal I set up yesterday.”
“Okay…”
“Well, it was late in the day and the judge had
already left…”
“So, he couldn’t approve your deal,” I filled in.
“Right… so, since this guy was out on bail, he left
for the night with instructions to report to the court the next morning.”
“So, what happened?” I asked. “He not show?”
“Yeah, he
disappeared,” Rocky responded. “Police found nothing in his condo around 9am
this morning.”
“Did the company whack him for stealing the dough?”
“That’s the thing…nobody heard or saw anything…the
police have zero clues,” Rocky whined. “Can you go over to this guy’s house and
check things out?”
“Hon, I’m no bounty hunter,” I let her know. “Hey, maybe
they’ll assign Hugh to the case.”
Hugh Barclay was a very effective bounty hunter and
we dated pretty intensely awhile back until he cheated on me and I told him to
go to hell. We still see each other out and about in our line of work. Last
month, I was investigating a guy up in Woodland Hills who got arrested and
skipped on his bail all while I was looking at him for fraud. Hugh and I bumped
into each other inside the guy’s house.
“I know that, silly!” Rocky yelled into the phone. “But
the guy was acting kind of cocky yesterday…like four years in prison wasn’t a
big deal. I just can’t shake the feeling
that the money wasn’t the only thing he stole.”
After high school, Rocky became a stripper at Flamingo’s
for a year until a gun went off in the club one evening and she saw the light. I couldn’t have been more proud of her for
that, though it was sort of funny that she ended up in law enforcement. She
lives on Brocton Avenue in West LA in an apartment building where UCLA students
live. So every Friday night, we are out on her patio to check out the hotties.
“Was the money ever recovered?” I wanted to know as
I made a reckless lane change.
“Only about thirty thousand,” Rocky told me.
“Hey, we still on for drinks at your place?”
“You bet…See you at six.”
We hung up and I raced toward the 10. My cell buzzed
again, producing an unknown number.
“Jackie Blue,” I announced.
“Ms. Blue, Jim Collins here.”
Jim Collins was my boss at All Star Insurance, one
of the four insurance companies I do business with.
“Mr. Collins, how are you?”
“Good, good…listen we have a jewelry theft project
you need to look at.”
“Uh, sure,” I said. “That sounds good.”
This was a new area, maybe more lucrative than
workers comp fraud, but also sounding like a ‘find it’ project which was
different for me.
“Okay. I’ll send you the file, but it’s pretty basic
stuff. Mr. Stewart claims that 1.9 million dollars of diamonds was stolen at
his house last month and we need you to find them. We can stall payment to this
guy for another month or two, but beyond that, we have to pay him. You need to
dive into Mr. Stewart’s life. Heck, start dating him, I don’t care.”
“Should I interview him?” I asked while dropping my
sunglasses on the floor.
“Uh…We’ve talked with Mr. Stewart twice through our
official channels. But we need you to do whatever you gotta do to get these
jewels back. I shouldn’t say anything more, but you get what I mean.”
I gulped. “What’s the address?”
“879 South Bundy, south of Montana,” Jim informed
me. “Andy Stewart is the guy’s name.”
“Okay, I’ll keep you posted.”
Do what I had to do? That sounded illegal and
dangerous. Not that I had a problem with that, but I didn’t even own a gun. When
I saw the number on my cell I thought it belonged to Lucy, my 20 year old kid
sister who I was trying my best to put through college. She would be the first
Blue family member to graduate from college, so I wasn’t going to let her down.
Rocky had been pressing me to ask my insurance bosses for more challenging
projects like expensive, high profile cases that would involve less hiding in
bushes.
The house seemed like a logical place to start, to
make an introduction to Andy’s life. I had to dig deep into this guy, know
every routine, down to when and where he takes a crap each day. His job, what
he looks like, relatives, career history, recreational activities, friends,
college, bank account size – I had to have it all.
I hopped onto the 10 and made my way to West LA. Traffic
is always such a bitch anywhere in LA, but I managed to find the condo in 25
minutes. The address number was painted on the curb, which was a good thing
because overgrown brush and palm trees blocked most of the view of the condo
from the street.
My Uncle Larry had showed me how to pick a door lock
when I was nine, a lesson that came in handy a few times year. I carried what
looked like large tweezers in my glove compartment for just such an occasion.
I followed the sunken walkway around the side of the
house and noticed a small, low lying deck with access to the condo’s first
floor. White stucco and black shutters were the notable features of the
structure and something on the property smelled of fresh paint.
Knocking loudly on the deck door, I listened for
anyone inside. My heart was beating like a mad man on crack. Another knock…no
sound. The deck door felt remarkably flimsy and may have given in with a swift
kick, but a loud noise was something to avoid. I worked the lock and entered
the condo in under a minute. Not a record, but close.
Inside, all the drapes were closed and the place reeked
of cigarettes. Holding my stun gun out, I flung on the lights to find the place
surprisingly clean and orderly. No clear signs of a break in from a diamond
thief. The deck door lock wasn’t damaged and the molding looked unscarred. A large painting of a naked woman hung over
the fireplace and kind of fit with the art deco furniture. It was one of those
paintings where it seemed like the woman was staring at me no matter where I
was in the room. The drapes covering the windows were dark maroon colored and
clashed with practically everything in the living room. Not that I’m the queen
of interior design by any stretch, but it sure didn’t look like this guy was
wealthy enough to hold two million bucks of jewels.
I figured I’d start in the kitchen. A toaster was
the only thing on the white counters and the near bare fridge held just a half
filled grapefruit juice container and a package of cheese sticks. Three pots
and two pans hung inside the island cabinet. I saw a phone jack, but no phone
or modem. Finally, something interesting: the drawer underneath the island had Val
Pak coupons, two magazine solicitations, and water and cable bills postmarked
three weeks ago. The strange thing was the name in the envelope windows of the
two bills: Robert Larson. Who was that? Andy’s roommate? Hot steaming lover?
A large closet holding the furnace and water heater
was across from the kitchen but I didn’t find anything under or behind the two
pieces of equipment.
I headed upstairs and walked down the second floor
hallway to find the master bedroom - a good place to hide ‘stolen’ jewels as
master closets sometimes have attic storage. A wedding picture of a man and a
woman, both in their 20s, hung above the master bed. I stared at the picture
for about thirty seconds. The young man had bleach blond hair and looked to be
about 5’11. He also had a small gap between his upper two front teeth. The
woman featured brunet hair and a very strong tan. Standing five or six inches
shorter than her groom, she didn’t match the naked lady painting above the fireplace.
I found the master closet to the right of the king
sized bed that was too big for the room. The door opened into the closet and
would hardly move as something seemed to be blocking it. I opened it as much as
possible and squeezed inside to hit the light. A young woman with a bullet hole
in her forehead was the object blocking the door and her eyes were horrifically
wide open. Unable to even shriek, a guttural wail came out of me that would
scare Ozzy Osbourne. I squeezed back outside and sprinted out of the room. Only
then did I realize I had sharted. Damn.
Having just received a promotion of sorts from Jim
Collins, I was left with a dead body in the bedroom and a mess in my pants. But,
I was a big girl, so I sucked in some smoke odored air and found the master
bathroom, where the usual toiletries lay in the drawers.
After some time in the bathroom, I decided to take a
few photos of the dead woman. I am no coroner, but she looked pretty fresh. And
she wasn’t the lady in the photo above the bed or the painting in the living
room. She looked to be in her late 20’s.
As I suspected, the master bedroom closet had attic
storage with ladder access. The light from the closet let just enough light
into the attic that I could see entire emptiness. Nothing, nada, zippo. There
were roughly 10 casual shirts hanging in the closet, as well as four pairs of
pants and one suit. One of the shirts had an Evergreen Corporation logo on it.
Maybe that’s where Andy worked. I’d have to check that out later.
“That would’ve been too easy to find the diamonds
here,” I muttered to myself.
Clearly, I couldn’t stay too long with a dead body
in the house, but I had no intention of calling the police. Not for now at
least. Maybe tomorrow. I started down the hallway when I heard the deck door
open. Sprinting back into the master bedroom, I hid behind the bathroom door
and heard two male voices. They were arguing.
“I told you not to let her out of your sight and now
we have to deal with this crap!”
“What the hell are you talking about? She wasn’t my
responsibility…you never told me anything about her.”
The two guys were now in the master bedroom and my
heart was racing like the Indy 500. I could barely see them through the crack
between the door and the frame but one of the guys had dark, slicked back hair.
The other was shorter, with a shaved head. They headed over to the master
closet and picked up the dead woman. My stun gun was alive and ready because I
knew if they looked over at the bathroom door they might see me.
“All right, let’s get her into the bag.”
What looked like a hockey bag was on the bed. They
put the body inside, worked it to fit, and had the bag zipped up in under 30
seconds.
“Okay, you grab that side…let’s get out of here!”
“All right, but don’t you be thinking this is my
fault!”
“Just shut up!”
With that, the two thugs were down the hallway. I
listened for the deck door to open and close. Still, I waited another minute
before getting out from behind the bathroom door. My heart was still pounding,
so I sat on the bed to gather my thoughts.
Whoever those thugs were, it sure sounded like they
didn’t kill that woman but it wasn’t clear if they knew who did. Was the ‘her’
they were talking about the dead woman or someone else, namely the killer?
I listened for the thugs to drive off before leaving
the bedroom and heading out through the deck door downstairs. I closed the door
behind me and walked back down the stone path to my car. Was the dead woman in
the master closet looking for the diamonds? Whoever those thugs were, they had
to be involved with the diamond theft in some fashion. Two things were sure in
my mind: If I decided to defraud an insurance company over expensive jewelry, I
wouldn’t leave it in the house. Second, those thugs sure made it seem like this
case was bigger than a $1.9 million diamond theft case.
The dead woman aside, not much in that house told me
really anything about Andy Stewart. Maybe he worked at Evergreen Corporation,
though he could’ve gotten that shirt anywhere. The place felt like it was a
part time home, but the cigarette odor smelled fresh. And at least two people
had been in that condo in the last 24 hours: the dead woman and her killer.
I would’ve loved to find banking statements,
shopping receipts, or even a birthday card from a relative. Yet, the only noteworthy documents in the
home were the monthly bills addressed to Robert Larson. Andy Stewart and Robert Larson...just what was
this relationship? If it was a gay thing, why have a picture of you and your
bride above the bed? Same thing if Andy was divorced. That’s the last thing
he’d want over his bed. At least I had a good idea what Andy looked like. If he
was the one in the picture, that is. Crap, I didn’t know anything!
It was 4:40 in the afternoon and I decided I’d wait
in my car for a while to see if anybody else showed at the house. My cell phone found the number for the
Evergreen Corporation in Santa Monica, ten minutes away.
“Yes, may I speak with Andy Stewart, please?” I
asked the receptionist.
“Andy
Stewart,” the voice in the phone said.
I panicked and hung up my cell. What the hell could
I say to the guy? I got what I wanted to know which was that he was alive and
he did work at the Evergreen Corporation. Should I have told him that there were two
thugs and a dead woman in his house? Maybe, but my job was not to be sweet and
nice.
The knock on my driver side window nearly scared the
crap out of me again. It was an older lady, so I stepped out of the car.
“Hon, are you lost? You’ve been sitting here for
some time now…”
“No, no,” I responded. “I heard there might be a
house coming up for rent on this street and I just wanted to sit and take in
everything here.”
“Oh, okay,” she said. “My name is Kay…I live five
houses up that way. This is a lovely neighborhood.”
As Kay pointed up Bundy, I was praying she didn’t
ask me which house I was targeting. Kay had short cropped white hair that she kept
sort of spiked up at the top and she was wearing a US Army T shirt and shorts.
Mid 60’s she looked. Probably a runner.
“Kay, it was a pleasure, but I need to take this
call,” I said while putting the cell to my ear and faking an inbound call.
Kay smiled and walked back toward her house. I
thought about asking her about Andy’s house. Just who was living there, I
wanted to know. She seemed like the type of person that would be all over that
information. Neighborhood busybody. But keeping the conversation going was too
dangerous. Simple as that. Chapter Two
Friday’s nights at Rocky’s place had grown legendary in our minds. She had lived there for nearly two years, and, since her apartment was a stone’s throw from the UCLA campus, she knew several college boys who loved to party.
We were on her second floor patio grilling burgers and brats when three guys called up to tell us of a keg party in their pad. Couldn’t beat that with a stick. After the Bundy incident, I had gone shopping for some new panties. I was ready to roll.
“So you’re sure the body was in that bag they brought?” Rocky asked. “I mean, how big could this bag be?”
“You’ve never seen a hockey bag? They’re friggin huge!” I held out my arms for emphasis.
“Well, I can’t blame you for hanging out in your car after that scary incident but it’s probably only a matter of time before they spot you on the street…you know? That old lady had no problem seeing you hang around on Bundy like the pesky PI you are.”
“Funny girl!” We toasted beer bottles.
Biting into a brat with mustard, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if they spotted me behind that bathroom door. It was so hard to tell who’s living there and the mail situation was completely screwed up. Very confusing, hon.”
“You would’ve ended up like the dead lady you found, for sure! Even with your stun gun. Did you grow some stones I don’t know about?”
“Yeah, you know a thing or two about that, don’t you? What were the names of the bouncers at Flamingo’s?”
Rocky laughed. “Danny and Robert. Danny saved my ass a few times. That girl that ended up dead there last year…that was pretty big news. All of South LA was shaken up on that killing. Well, maybe not all of South LA…folks we know.”
Flamingo’s was the strip club that Rocky worked at out of high school. I remember one guy with a knife, harassing Rocky in the parking lot one night after closing and Danny coming to her rescue, knocking the guy out cold. I started urging Rocky to quit that job after hearing of that incident, but it would take her several months to finally listen to me. That and a gunfire scene involving an idiot pro basketball player who accidentally set off a loaded gun he had brought to the club. The numb nut shot himself in the leg while fumbling for the gun in his sweatpants.
“You were super lucky, girl!” I affirmed.
“Damn lucky. I heard that Danny and Robert aren’t there anymore and the place has changed completely.” Rocky put her bare feet up on a chair.
Rocky didn’t like to talk about the Flamingo much, and I knew to steer clear of that difficult memory, but she seemed okay with it tonight. Heck, it was so, so long ago and she was just a kid back then.
“Didn’t you tell me Danny has started his own security company?” I thought I had seen Danny earlier that week driving in a security truck in Santa Monica, but it’d been a few years and I couldn’t be sure.
“Yeah…gosh…it’s been six months since I last saw him and that’s what he told me he was up to these days.”
Rocky took the two burgers off the hibachi she had bought from the guys downstairs. “Want another beer, missy?”
“Yeah,” I said while taking my buzzing cell out of my pocket.
“Hey, white trash, ‘sup?” My kid sister, Lucy, sounded drunk.
“Luce, where are you?”
“On the way to a partaaaay! Hey, Mom called me…she wants us to go back home tomorrow for dinner.”
Our folks live in Northridge, where we grew up. My papa just moved in with them after my grandma died last August. The three don’t seem very happy with each other which I can totally understand, but my papa is too senile to live alone. Not to mention the horrible gas he has which my mom can’t stand. Maybe that’s what killed ‘ole grandma in the end.
“That’s good ‘cause I haven’t seen them in a while. Should I come pick you up?” I asked my sister who was at Long Beach State. She couldn’t afford a car, yet.
“No…I’ll borrow Lauren’s…she’s cool with that. Anyway, do we need gas masks to enter the house these days? I saw papa a few weeks ago and the odor was nasty, but dad would’ve shot me if I said anything. He’s such a good peacekeeper.”
They’re giving the poor guy gas pills but my mom doesn’t think they’re working. She has these plug-in scent thingamabobs all around the house and I can’t tell what smells worse. My folks are also totally not used to caring for somebody else because it’s been over thirteen or so years since Lucy was a small child. My dad still works as a city trash supervisor and is nowhere near retirement, especially since papa arrived at the house.
“Okay…that’s cool. Kind of early for a college party isn’t it, sis?”
“Getting the buzz on so it don’t sneak up on us later, know what I mean?”
I didn’t really know what that meant at all, but there wasn’t any sense arguing with her. She was having fun and that counted for a lot.
“Okay, sweetie…you have a great night and I’ll see you tomorrow with your gas mask.”
“Ciao Bella!” Lucy replied.
Rocky came back out from a pee break.
“I shouldn’t eat that burger, Rock….it’s too much food.”
“Oh, believe me, you’ll be munching for it in a few hours.”
“Yeah, after I hurl up the brat,” I told he before taking a swig of my Coors. “You know, I’ve been wanting to get into the stealing part of this business…just didn’t account for the creepy angle. Couldn’t they ease me into this new gig? A murder on the first hour of the job? Come on!”
Rocky leaned into me. “I don’t understand how you insure 2 million of diamonds. Don’t they make you keep them at a bank or something?”
“That’s what I need to wrap my head around, you know? I need to know everything Mr. Collins knows. ..find out just what their investigation shows. And you know the worst part of this, Rock? I’m starting to feel like I can’t hack it, like I’m way over my head. The moxie is draining fast, babe!”
I began rubbing the back of my head with both hands.
“Relax, will you?” Rocky asked me. “We’ll figure this out. I’ll bet you’ll find this whole thing involving the diamonds isn’t all that complicated. For the insurance deal, I know you need a decent police report and strong documentation showing that you actually owned what you claim has been stolen.”
“Well, that’s a lot of mumbo jumbo!” I said with a crazy, nerve-filled laugh. “Let’s get loaded tonight!”
“Sure, sure…enough job talk for the night. Your life has gotten a whole lot more interesting, that’s for sure. Hey, did I tell you I saw Julie on Monday? She ran up to me outside my building and I barely recognized her.”
“What? Why did she think you would talk to her?”
“I don’t understand either, and I didn’t act like I wanted to speak to her…didn’t even ask her a single question about where she was these days.”
Rocky and I used to be part of a trio with Julie Skarratt way back to the second grade until early junior year when Julie stole Rocky’s boyfriend, Bobby Flay. It basically ruined our junior year of high school and Julie acted like she couldn’t care less. The bitch. Then Bobby dumps her about six months later and she suddenly wants back into our lives. No way, Jose!
“Then how long did you guys talk?” I asked.
“Thirty seconds…she got the hint.”
We finished our beers and went down to the first floor of the building where the party was at. I looked like crap, having accomplished a laughable swipe of lash-lengthening mascara in Rocky’s bathroom minutes earlier. Lance and Will were the hosts that had called up to us on the patio to inform us of the party. Lance was outside in the hallway talking with some girl.
“Hey, there you are!” he shouted. “A bunch of us are already in there.”
Lance opened the door to roughly 20 people. The steaming hot air poured out into the hallway as we walked inside. Rocky thought this was a three bedroom apartment, but only partly knew two of the guys. Walking toward the patio door, we noticed one person being held upside down over the keg by two people holding his legs in the air. The upside down guy was busy sucking on the tap where the beer came out.
“It’s an upside down tap suck!” one guy told us. “You wanna give it a whirl?”
He was looking right at me. “Sure!”
They lowered the upside down dude off the keg.
“Okay!” a guy in a UNLV shirt told me. “Put your hands on the keg and hold on.”
Before I could take the next breath, two dudes grabbed my legs and I was upside down. I put the tap of the keg in my mouth and pressed the release lever. The beer flowed into my mouth like it never had before. Absolutely sensational. Gravity and the beer gently smacked into each other as I kept sucking.
“Look at her go!” someone shouted.
I couldn’t have been on there for more than fifteen seconds but it felt like I was flying through eternity. A beer goddess able to conquer anything. My mind was emptied and my limbs soothed.
Once I was upright, it took a few seconds for my brain to adjust to standing again. I grabbed Rocky. “You gotta try that. It’s awesome…do it!”
She smiled and grabbed hold of the keg. Once upside down, she didn’t want to let go with the one hand needed to hold the tap, so a girl put the tap in Rocky’s mouth. As the beer started flowing, she closed her eyes and farted loudly. Nobody cared or said anything, but I was on the floor in hysterics.
The beer nirvana began working its magic and Lance reached for me, holding me in his large, sculpted arms. He stood 6’2, had blond hair and three day stubble on his face. Lance moved in for a kiss and we locked lips. Apparently, he had some breath mint action going on. Likey, likey.
“I’ve seen you around the building,” he whispered into my ear.
Just then, the door flew open and two police officers walked into the apartment. They didn’t look to be too militant, but they spurred a mass exodus and near panic anyway.
Rocky grabbed me and we stumbled out through the first floor patio. She knew it wouldn’t look good for a probation officer to be caught at an underage college party.
“Oh, you and Lance sure found each other. He’s a hottie galore!”
“I don’t know, he’s a bit young…he’s Lucy’s age. I call him a Legal But…”
“A Legal But?”
I laughed. “You know, silly. He’s legal, but….”
Rocky hugged me as we walked up to the second floor toward her apartment. This was not the first time the cops had broken up a party in her building, but we hadn’t seen them recently.
“I still have a six pack of Miller Lite in the fridge. Let’s hit that ‘till we can figure what else to do this lovely evening. Hey, have you ever heard of an upside down tap suck? ‘Cause I definitely haven’t…”
“No!” I shouted out. “That was friggin awesome, though.”
We got inside Rocky’s apartment and grabbed the Miller Lite from the fridge.
“Fancy to see you ladies here,” a voice from the corner filled the air.
Rocky hit the lights to her living room and we saw Hugh sitting in Rocky’s red lounge chair.
“Hugh, you idiot! You scared us half to death!” I shouted at my old beau. “What….did you break in here?”
He laughed until he coughed. “Sweet cheeks, that is my life. I can pick any lock anywhere anyhow. I am sorry if I scared you two, though.”
“I could have you arrested in under ten minutes,” Rocky stated firmly.
“Oh, you won’t do that…I come in peace.” Hugh flashed the ocean blue eyes I used to adore for the over three years we dated. Hugh Barclay was 6’1 with dirty blond hair and a know-how on how to treat a lady. He used to shower me with flowers and candies, and, being a fabulous cook, he dined me like no tomorrow. The last time I saw him, he was real sweet and charming, leaving me to wonder why I dumped him. Oh yeah, the sucker cheated on me.
“You must want something to go through all this trouble…” I told him.
“It was no trouble…don’t insult me. Look, I came here ‘cause I need help…investigative help.” He looked right at me.
“Investigative help?” I asked. “And why should I help you?”
“’cause you need to broaden your skill base. You know it and I know…always whining about that when we were together. Which reminds me. Are you seeing anybody these days?”
Rocky erupted, “Are you kidding me with this joker? I thought, Jack, that he was really smooth with the ladies. Where’s all that smoothness here?”
Hugh stood up straight and looked right at me, trying his best to ignore Rocky’s attack. “Jack, someone has been following me, which normally wouldn’t be worth squat on my radar, but they left a thumb on my windshield this morning and that has me kind of spooked.”
I started to shake my head. “A thumb? Whose was it?”
“They left a note saying my hand was gonna be next. I’m telling you, Jack, I’m sleeping with my shotgun tonight.”
“I don’t get it, Hugh,” I replied. “Is it somebody you’re chasing? Nobody has ever come after you…they’re always running away from you, right?”
Hugh must’ve really pissed somebody off. Maybe it was a dude recently released from prison. Maybe the thumb belonged to a cadaver or an inmate. Or maybe another bail bondsman is after him with access to a fresh looking thumb. Too many maybes.
“Well…yeah. That’s what I can’t figure out. I mean, everybody I capture is pissed at me, but this is a first and I’m wracking my brain trying to trace my actions the past few days. It’s definitely not as easy as it sounds. I’m a busy guy, you know.”
Rocky came over with three beers. “Hugh, that is really creepy. Who would have access to a thumb that hasn’t decomposed? That’s where you’ve got to start. My guess is that it’s out of a morgue or one of the medical schools in the area. Come to think of it, I bet they don’t keep close watch over their cadavers. Maybe the guy after you is from the mob, ‘cause…”
“Where were you when you found it on your windshield?” I inserted.
“At my pad…so they must’ve found my truck in the middle of the night. The thumb was under a wiper blade and I didn’t know what the hell it was at first. ”
A loud thud banged on Rocky’s apartment door. “Who is it?” she yelled while looking at Hugh who was reaching for his Walther PPS.
“It’s Lance!”
Rocky opened the door. “Lance, I’m sorry but I think we’re done for the night. Something has come up.”
“Yeah, okay,” Lance replied. “If you change your mind, my older brother is having a party...887 South Bundy. We’re heading over there right now. Nobody got into trouble with the cops, but they’re still hanging around so…”
I grabbed Hugh. “We’re going to a party!”
Chapter Three
Chapter Three
“That’s the house?” Hugh asked me as we drove up South Bundy. He slowed his truck down to a near stop for a couple of seconds. A few lights were on in the diamond house I was investigating. Whether that was from Andy Stewart or Robert Larson was anybody’s guess.
I had quickly gotten Hugh up to speed on the dead body/diamond investigation during the ride over to Lance’s brother’s place. Rocky warned me that his brother was in banking and we were likely heading to a fancy adult party, but we all agreed to check it out.
“And following up on the condo your investigating while you’re wasted is a bad idea,” Rocky asserted. “You have to see that.”
“I’m not that wasted, girl!” I replied. “Anyway, it’s not like I’m going to knock on the front door and ask to speak to Andy Stewart.”
Hugh laughed. “This whole mystery would be solved in less than a day if I were assigned to it. You can’t be gentle with these folks. Find this Stewart guy alone, shove a gun in his face and demand answers. Plain and simple. If that don’t scare him, force a sack over his head and take him for a car ride. You’ll get the truth sooner or later.”
“I don’t own a gun and I’m not that kickass…you know that, Hugh!” I shouted back. For as long as we have known each other, he has been telling me to get a gun. Just plain stupidity, in my view…until this diamond assignment, that is.
“Well, if you need my thug services in the end, you know where to find me.”
We parked near Lance’s brother’s place which looked a whole lot nicer than Andy Stewart’s. A long, two-story, house with a clear view of Bundy and the brush and trees relegated to the sides of the property. Lance was waiting in the driveway. There were roughly ten other cars parked in the street that looked belonging to party guests.
“This is way more mellow then my place,” Lance said. “Older people, too.”
The party looked to be centered on the back deck. Flood lights beamed out into a beautifully landscaped yard with a little gazebo in the back. We drew some stares from the guests, mainly because we clearly weren’t dressed for the occasion, but neither was Lance who made the introduction to us. Hugh had a dark leather jacket on and torn jeans, for Pete’s Sake. I smelled my pits before we arrived and it wasn’t noticeable. I was wearing what I’d been wearing all day: light blue shirt, tan slacks and sneakers. The tan slacks had a slight dirt stain from laying under the bush on the golf course. Oh well.
The brother, Steve, couldn’t have been more nice and welcoming to us, though, and seemed thrilled that Lance didn’t bring over college buddies.
Steve seemed to point the conversation at Rocky and me. “So, you gals live in Lance’s building?”
“I do,” Rocky perked up. “We were at your brother’s party earlier, but that ended.”
Lance looked relieved she didn’t bring up the police.
“Well, happy you could make it,” Steve said. “Help yourselves to drinks.”
The bar was self serve so we did just that. Hugh started talking with some guy in a sweater vest.
“So did you all go to college together or something?” Hugh asked.
“No, no…we all work together at JLP…in investing,” sweater vest replied while scratching his wrist.
Hugh chuckled. “Then, I could give you money to invest for me?”
“Perhaps…what is it that you do?”
“I’m a bounty hunter.”
Sweater vest’s mouth dropped and suddenly the entire party was peppering Hugh with questions about his job. He was a hit. They all wanted to know if he had ever killed anybody, was he currently tracking someone, who did he work for, what was his cut from the bondsman, did he have a partner…
I knew it wouldn’t take long before they all wanted to see Hugh’s Walther PPS. He pulled it out, took out the chamber and passed it around.
“The best place to shoot somebody is in the foot or lower leg area. They won’t bleed out and they will not be able to run.”
Everybody nodded in gullible agreement. It was like Elvis had come back from the dead and landed on this back deck of Lance’s brother, Steve.
“Can you believe this?” Rocky asked me. “They’re only making his ego swell up huger, you know that!”
“Oh, relax,” I said. “He’s been through a lot today even for the world’s leading bounty hunter!”
Rocky laughed and took a large swig of her Dos Equis.
I glanced over at the backyard and, for an instant, saw the dude with the slicked back hair that carried away the dead body earlier; he flashed in the back corner of Steve’s lot and hurdled the back fence before disappearing. Like he was being chased. But who was chasing him? I looked intently to see if I could spot anyone following him, but didn’t see anything.
“What’re you looking at?” Rocky asked me.
“I can’t believe it…I just saw one of the guys that I witnessed carrying the hockey bag this afternoon. He appeared right over there and hurdled over the back fence. In the back corner, for maybe two seconds.”
I pointed over to the back corner of the lot and noticed that I was sweating in the excitement.
“C’mon, Jack, your drunken ass is making you see things,” Rocky laughingly said. “They wouldn’t be so stupid as to have a gun chase right in front of a party.”
Lance walked up to us. “Who’s having a gun chase?” He put his hands in his pockets.
“Oh, she was just making fun of Hugh, that’s all,” I told him. “Your brother sure has nice friends.”
“Well, he certainly approves of you,” Lance said while putting his arms around me.
“Uh, bud…see that bounty hunter over there?” Rocky asked. “He and Jack dated for a long time, so be very careful with her around him.”
Lance looked over at Hugh and then me. “You and him dated?”
I nodded and my cheeks got red, which sucked because Hugh was right – I needed to be way more hard ass and hard ass folk don’t have their cheeks blush. What I really wanted to do at that moment was not hang out with Lance, but, instead, walk up to the diamond house and see who answered the door. Shake things up a bit.
“Well, that’s just the cat’s friggin meow, isn’t it!” Lance yelled out. Nobody noticed on account of Hugh showing off a tattoo to the party.
Four other guests showed up at the back deck. Three women, one man. All four knew everyone at the party it seemed, except us of course, and they innocently managed to steal the spotlight away from Hugh. He listened briefly to the chat involving the new guests, before looking at me and raising his eyebrows. If cocktail party talk is Hugh’s strong suit, then I’m a jet setting runway model. Hugh stood up from his chair, put the chamber back into his Walther PPS, and headed for the bar. He was a whiskey man by nature, so Hugh appeared a tad out of sorts until he spotted the Johnny Walker bottle in the back, against the house. Two ice cubes, no water, and a blue plastic cup with Johnny Walker Red. Hog heaven for any bounty hunter.
“Now, am I crazy or did I see a guy briefly appear in that corner over there and then scale the back fence? Hugh asked us, while pointing to the southeast corner of the lot.
Lance was still hanging around me and looked thoroughly confused by this comment of Hugh’s.
“How could you see anything over your huge ego?” Rocky loudly asked before taking a drink.
“I’m telling you, I saw…”
“Probably some teenage kids,” I inserted. “So, Hugh, have you been able to figure out how all these folks know each other?
“They all work together,” Hugh replied.
“Not all of them!” Lance pointed at a couple with matching pink shirts. “Those two are high school buddies of Steve from a long, long time ago. And I don’t think that guy over there in the blue blazer works for JLP…”
“Hugh, I can’t believe you showed everybody your gun,” I interrupted. “Acting like a child over there.”
“Jack, they love me…sorry if I embarrassed you. I don’t know what came over me, but I did pull out the chamber, so it wasn’t dangerous or anything like that. Anyway, why do you care so much how I behave?”
“Relax, Hugh, she really don’t care…don’t flatter yourself.”
Hugh glared at Rocky and clenched his fist. “I’ve had enough of you for tonight, missy! You’ve grown quite a mouth on you.”
“Okay, enough, you two!” I said.
Lance grew tired of our bickering and decided to talk with the new guests.
“So, you saw that fella over there too?” I asked Hugh.
“Yeah, it was wild…someone in the group peppering me with questions moved over a bit and, all of a sudden, I had a view of that corner of the yard and this guy appears out of nowhere for maybe a few seconds.”
The couple in the matching pink shirts approached us and I gave Hugh the look to shut up about the backyard bandit.
“Hugh, introduce us to your friends,” the woman in pink said.
I smiled as nicely as I could, but it wasn’t easy. My mind was about four houses away, down Bundy. Was Andy Stewart the one chasing the slicked back hair dude we saw? Was he pissed about that woman in his house being dead? Was I falling back in love with Hugh? The questions were flying around my head like some Cirque du Soleil act.
Before I could even respond to the woman’s request, a police officer appeared on the deck to the shock of everyone.
Steve rushed up to the officer. “I’m sorry, is there a problem, officer?”
“We responded to a noise complaint a few houses down and I’m here to ask any of you if you saw anything suspicious in the past half hour.” The officer quickly scanned the group, but maintained no expression on his face.
Standing near the edge of the deck, I could see part of the street and noticed that lady, Kay, the neighborhood busybody that had interrupted my watch of Andy’s house earlier that afternoon. I turned away quickly because I didn’t want her to spot me.
For all I knew, she could’ve mentioned our strange meeting that afternoon to the officer and, suddenly, I’d be looking suspicious. And that’s the last thing I needed. I looked directly at Hugh, and, as we connected our eyes, I gently shook my head to indicate the need to shut up around the officer. He smiled in agreement.
“I don’t think anybody here has heard or seen anything unusual,” Steve told the officer. “We’re just having a small work gathering here.”
The officer looked away from Steve and tried to examine the group. My guess was that it was a little more than a noise complaint the officer was responding to. Maybe Kay heard gunfire. I didn’t hear any of that and Hugh definitely would’ve sensed someone firing a gun a few houses away. I had tagged along on enough of his ‘stakeouts’ to know that the boy has ears like a cat, forcing me to be extra careful with my farts.
“Okay, what’s your name?” the officer asked Steve.
“Steve Morgan, I live here.”
“All right, well if you folks see or hear anything out of the ordinary, don’t hesitate to let us know.”
Hugh unwisely decided to jump into the conversation. “I don’t get it…was this a standard noise complaint or something bigger?”
The officer adjusted his shirt sleeve. “I’m not at liberty to say, sir, but like I just said, let us know if you see or hear something out of the usual.”
The officer turned away from us and walked back toward Bundy.
“Well, that was a whole lot to do about nothing!” Hugh shouted to the glee of the party.
I pulled him aside. “What do you think happened for the police to show up?”
“How the hell am I supposed to know?” Hugh asked with a bark. “That guy we saw hopping the fence back there was doing something weird, sure…but was he behind the noise complaint? That’s a big fat maybe in my book.”
“I’m telling you, that guy was the same dude I saw this afternoon.” I was squeezing Hugh’s arm pretty damn tight and he yanked it away.
“Well, you’re in no shape to look at things totally proper right now…how much have you drunk tonight?” he asked me.
“Not enough that I can’t see straight, you ass!” I walked away in a huff.
Rocky and I asked Steve to point us to the bathroom and Lance offered to be our knight in shining armor and show us. As we walked into the kitchen, the smoke became quite noticeable.
“You smell that?” Lance asked.
Something was definitely burning but we didn’t see any smoke. Lance called for Steve who ignored him at first.
“Steve, get in here!” Lance tried a second time.
The look on Steve’s face as he entered the kitchen would’ve scared the dead. “What the hell?” he yelled, before running through the house in an attempt to locate the fire.
The three of us followed in tow like quivering sheep. Steve opened a bedroom door down the hall, rushed inside, and smoke poured out through the house.
“Call 911!” Steve screamed from inside the room. The curtains were ablaze and he was swatting the fire with a blanket.
Lance fumbled for his cell and dialed the number.
“Hello, there is a house fire at 887 South Bundy. Hurry!” Lance yelled into the phone. Apparently, the 911 operator didn’t want him to hang up, so he went outside.
Meanwhile, Rocky and I were searching for something to pour water over the flames. We only found a large bowl, filled it with tap water and rushed it over to Steve in the bedroom. Other party guests were clued in by now and streamed into the house in utter confusion.
I threw the water on the flames, but it hardly helped. Plus, the carpet was starting to burn and forcing us back into the hallway. Rocky doused the carpet with water from another bowl she found, and it only slowed the flames a tad.
The smoke was getting really bad and Hugh appeared out of nowhere to drag Rocky and me out of the condo. We both were crying and coughing up a storm, while two other guests practically threw Steve out of his place a few moments later.
“Let me back in there!” he screamed over and over to the four folks blocking the kitchen door. One guy with a mustache was trying to talk him down, but not doing a very good job.
It looked like smoke now filled the whole first floor and I couldn’t see inside. Wood started to crackle and I grabbed Rocky as a security blanket, which was pretty stupid. The time between the sound of the fire trucks and them hooking everything up and getting set to fight the fire seemed like two hours. They told everybody to get off the deck.
Flames were really evident now in the kitchen and several of guests were crying, including Rocky.
“It was good that we left the house when we did,” Rocky said with a shaky voice.
I nodded and kept my arm around her, thinking that we were going to remember this night for a long, long time.
Hugh found us on the back lawn. We watched the fire crew spread themselves throughout the condo and spray water mightily. It seemed to us that they got everything under control in a matter of minutes, but they were not about to allow Steve back into his home. This, of course, had him yelling like a Chicago Cubs fan. The outside part of the condo looked to be unharmed, which had me thinking that it was a good thing Rocky and I asked for the bathroom when we did. The water being pumped into the condo probably destroyed anything that wasn’t already ruined by the smoke and fire, and I was guessing that was what Steve was yelling about.
“What were you ladies thinking trying to battle that fire like that?” Hugh pressed. “That smoke in your lungs is bad news, girlys!”
Rocky exploded in his face, nearly tackling him to the ground. “Yeah, I noticed that you weren’t exactly Johnny on the spot with the fire help! You could’ve found a garden hose or something…”
“Stop it you two…Hugh, thank you for pulling us out of the fire,” I said, trying to calm us all down. “Let’s just leave it at that.”
Rocky slugged me in the arm. “What’s wrong with you? You’re letting Mr. High and Mighty mouth off like that? I guess I’m just saying, that’s all. Boy!”
Hugh grunted and sauntered off to talk with the pink shirt guy who was holding his sobbing wife.
Rocky and I sat down on the lawn and watched the whole scene. Others quickly joined us and tried to make sense of how the fire started in the first place. As best I could tell, the curtains went ablaze first, so maybe they caught a spark from a bad outlet or something. I am no electrician but I’ve heard that electrical fires usually start in the walls, which could’ve lit up the curtains when the fire reached that point in the wall.
“It looks like all of Bundy is out front watching this whole thing!” the mustache guy said. “I wonder when Channel 8 news will show up.”
Was a fire on South Bundy that big a deal? I mean, the house wasn’t even leveled and you couldn’t really see what damage had been done from the outside. Not hot news in my opinion.
“I need a drink,” Rocky declared. “Let’s go back to my place…I can get the low down from Lance tomorrow.”
“Yeah, Steve is out of his mind upset but we’re not his friends,” I replied. “Let’s jet.”
We saw Hugh still talking with the pink shirt couple. What a nice guy.
“Hugh, we need to roll…let’s go,” I whispered.
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