by Nora Kane
“What was the case?”
When Margot didn’t answer right away, Radcliff told her, “I know it’s confidential, but there’s a good chance he was working your case when he met his unfortunate end. If there’s a connection, it would help us out a great deal.”
Margot looked at Ames. “What? No threats? No dragging me off in handcuffs?”
“Radcliff seems to think being nice is more effective. I figure I’d let him learn the hard way. So, are you going to tell us?”
“You’re not going to like it.”
“Why is that?” Ames asked.
“He was looking for Randy and Randy’s mother. Melanie wanted to prove his innocence.”
“And you were helping her?”
“As I said, it was a little too personal for me to take it on and be objective. Stick had a well-earned reputation of being a straight shooter. He’d find the truth and report, no matter what it was. I’ll admit I was hoping Stick would find something to put Randy away.”
“That explains the location,” Radcliff said.
“Where was he? I thought you said he was almost to the hospital.”
“He was, but that was where he bled out, not where he was shot. The shooting took place somewhere else. We would have had a witness if it’d taken place anywhere close to Tri-City. There is some evidence the bullet that ended his life might have fired indoors.”
“Indoors where?”
The deputy looked up. “Sunset Inn, a little place in Borrego Springs.”
“Borrego Springs was one of the places Randy claimed his Aunt was staying,” Radcliff said.
“Claimed being the operative word,” the deputy added. “I checked the address where she was supposedly staying myself. The same family has been living there for fifteen years and none of them had heard of this woman.”
“Let me guess,” Ames said, “Randy told your sister we didn’t check out any of the places he told us she would go.”
“Sounds like the Deputy actually did the checking,” Margot replied.
“You know what I meant.”
“Yeah, that was the claim. I take it she was wrong.”
“Yep, best kind of murder case is one that turns out not to be a murder case.”
“So, was Stick killed back here or out in Borrego?”
“Well, that’s where it gets a little tricky.”
“How so?”
Before Ames could tell her it really wasn’t her business, Brantley said, “There was blood and signs of a struggle in the room, even a bullet hole in the wall but no body. I put out a Bolo on him. Considering the amount of blood, it seemed either Stickly was dead or he killed somebody.”
“We called Deputy Brantley when we learned about the BOLO,” Radcliff told her.
“No one heard the shots?”
“They don’t get a lot of business this time of year. We’re pretty much a ghost town until it cools off a little. They don’t have a night clerk unless they specifically have a customer. It isn’t like there’s a bunch of stuff around it either.”
“He got shot in a Borrego Motel but drove home to bleed out?”
“Seems unlikely,” Radcliff told her.
“Whose case is it?"
“Both? If he was killed up there, then he’s the primary. Down here, then we’re in charge. My guess is since he died in our jurisdiction, we’ll be taking the lead on this one,” Ames explained.
“So, you decided to all work together?”
“Not really. We probably go our separate ways after this. When he asked about you, we figured we could do him a solid.”
“They said you could be a tad uncooperative,” Deputy Brantley said.
“Is that so?”
“Actually,” Ames told her, “I think the word I used was hostile.”
“Hostile?”
“That’s what he said. He said you’d be nicer to me if they came along and did most of the talking.”
“Is that so?”
“I don’t know how it would have gone without those two along, but you seem nice enough.”
“I have my moments. Was it Stick’s blood in the room?”
“We’re not really telling you anything, Margot,” Ames told her. “This is a homicide investigation, and you are not with the police.”
“Maybe,” Brantley added, ignoring Ames. “We have to send our stuff to the lab and it’s fair to say we aren’t usually on the high priority list. When I sent it in, we didn’t have a body, so I couldn’t rightly say it was blood from a murder scene. So I’m sure that pushed it back even more. I can say for certain that he was in the room.”
“The room or his room?”
“The room. He was checked in, but the room where he may have met his end was the one Randy was staying at.”
“Was Randy still there?”
“Hey, Margot?” Ames said. “This is a police matter now. You’re going to need to stay out of it.”
“I’m just asking questions.”
“We ask the questions.”
“Didn’t you say she was seeing him?” Brantley said as he pointed at Radcliff who nodded yes.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Won’t he tell her anyway?”
Ames looked over at his younger partner and shook his head. “I’d guess yes, but he shouldn’t.”
Brantley nodded and then said to Margot, “No, Randy wasn’t there. He never checked out though and no one had seen him for days. He left his stuff too.”
“Could it have been Randy’s blood?”
“For all we know right now, it could be coyote blood.”
Before Margot could reply to that, Ames said to her, “I know my younger dumber partner will tell you anything you want to know, but you need to stay out of this. Your initial instinct that you were too personally involved was spot on then and it’s spot on now.”
“I know,” Margot told Ames. “I’m just curious. I’m not launching my own investigation. I wouldn’t mind a report or two when you have something.”
“I think that can be arranged,” Brantley said.
“Is there anything else you can tell us?” Radcliff asked.
“No, Stick hadn’t filed his first report. All I knew was, I paid him to look for Randy and then he interviewed my sister for background. I didn’t even know he went to Borrego until you told me.”
“If you think of anything, you know where to find us,” Radcliff said.
“I certainly do. See you tomorrow?”
“I’m looking forward to it,” Radcliff replied.
“Stop it,” Ames said to his partner, “you’re making me ill.”
Chapter 3
Margot hated insurance jobs even more than she did infidelity gigs. If she caught a cheating spouse, at least it felt like they invited trouble when they decided to step out. The two parties there were at least on more or less equal footing before one party decided to do the other wrong.
Checking on potential false insurance claims, however, usually involved her helping a client with very deep pockets deprive someone with the opposite of deep pockets of a modest sum of money. The person she was checking out could certainly be doing the insurance company wrong, but it wasn’t like they started on equal footing.
Of course, working for the party with deep pockets ensured Margot made a few bucks. With this in mind, she was sitting in the parking lot of a Twenty-Four Hour Fitness waiting to see if Mr. Jones, a man with a workman’s comp claim, would be showing up to work out with a broken back. He’d driven out here at this time yesterday and had gone inside, but for all she knew, he had watched other people work out or possibly participated in some kind of physical therapy. She’d gone in after him and talked to a lady who offered to sell her a membership. Margot talked her into letting her get a workout in to see how she liked the place and the lady agreed. Since Margot hadn’t brough any gym clothes, she had to hope Mr. Jones had a regular time and went every day.
It was looking like he wasn�
��t going to show. Margot hoped he was an every-other-day type of guy. She was thinking she’d have to go back and sit on his apartment again. She decided to give him another fifteen minutes since Mr. Jones didn’t have a busy schedule to work his gym time into.
While she was giving Mr. Jones a few more minutes, her phone buzzed. The number was one she recognized. It was the number for Stick’s business phone. She answered.
“Margot Harris?” a female voice asked.
“Yes, is this Ms. Collins?” she asked, thinking of Stick’s secretary.
Unlike her, Stick had an office and a Ms. Collins who served as a receptionist and helped with the paperwork. Margot had an email address and a local bar that didn’t mind her meeting clients there as long as she showed up once in a while and bought drinks. Stick also had a partner. An ex-cop by the name of Crenshaw.
“Yes, Mr. Crenshaw would like to talk to you. Is this a good time?”
“Sure,” Margot replied as she looked around and saw Jones still hadn’t shown up.
“Hey Margot,” Crenshaw said as he got on the line.
Like Margot he’d been a cop before he went private. Unlike Margot, he’d put in over twenty years and had an exemplary record before he decided to supplement his retirement by joining up with Stick and doing private work.
“Hey, Shaw,” Margot replied, using his nickname. As far as she knew, only Ms. Collins called him Mr. Crenshaw. “I’m really sorry about Stick.”
“So, you heard?”
“Two homicide detectives and a sheriff’s deputy came by my place this morning.”
“Surely they didn’t think you did it?”
“No, they just wanted to know what he was doing for me and if that’s what got him murdered.”
“Could it have been?”
“Could it? Yeah, it could, but I don’t know that it did.”
“Speaking of the case, besides bringing you bad news you already have, I wanted to ask you if you got an email from Stick.”
“No, I checked this morning, nothing.”
“Huh, he usually contacts the client daily and then sends me an update.”
“I hadn’t talked to him since I hired him.”
“Damn, I was hoping this might shed some light on the situation. Normally, he gets that kind of thing done ASAP.”
“Anybody check his phone?”
“The cops might have, but he would have used his laptop anyway. He didn’t like to send emails to clients on his phone.”
“Nothing on that?”
“Cops have that too. If they found anything, they didn’t tell me.”
Margot thought on that for a second and then said, “He knew he was working for my sister even though I hired him. Maybe he sent it to her. I could ask.”
“I’d appreciate that. Let me know what it says, if you can. He was kind of fired up about this one. He thought he had something but never got a chance to tell anybody what.”
“As soon as I know something, you’ll know it too.”
“Thanks, Margot.”
“No problem.”
Margot was getting ready to dial her sister when she saw a spry looking Mr. Jones head into the gym. Margot kept the phone with her as she followed him inside. Talking to her sister would have to wait. She had money to make.
Chapter 4
Besides getting a nice hour of cardio and strength training, Margot learned Mr. Jones was there seeing a physical therapist, trying to get his back to a place where he could work again. He was pretty much the opposite of what the company assumed he would be. This would be good for Mr. Jones, but not so much for Margot. She’d get paid for her time, but they didn’t pay her to find out that people deserved their settlement money.
Margot called her sister on the way back to the car.
“Hey, did you get an email from Stick yesterday?”
“Who?”
“Mr. Stickly, the detective I hired for you.”
“No, I don’t think so. I thought he’d be talking to you and then you’d pass it on to me, which is why it was weird when he called me.”
“He called you when? What did he say?”
“Um, it was yesterday, late morning, I guess. I almost didn’t answer because I didn’t recognize the number. He just asked me about Randy’s phone.”
“What about Randy’s phone?”
“What brand and who was his service provider. I thought it was kind of weird. He had the phone number, so what did all that other stuff matter?”
Margot wasn’t sure either. People could be tracked by their cell phones, but it usually wasn’t something a private detective had the resources to pull off.
“You know, I didn’t even know he had my number,” Melanie said.
“I gave it to him. He knew he was doing this for you even though I’m named as the client. I would have no idea what brand phone Randy uses, so it made sense for him to call you.”
“Well, I did know, so I guess you were right. I just don’t like my information out there. Are you saying you gave him my email too?”
“I did but he is—or was—a professional.”
“Was?”
“Someone murdered him.”
“Does this have something to do with him looking for Randy?”
“It’s possible. Do you have the email or not?”
“It sounds like something l might have deleted without opening, but I can check.”
“Could you do now?” Margot asked. She got behind the wheel but didn’t turn on the car.
“I’m doing it as we speak. Found it. Good thing you called, or I would have never opened it.”
“What does it say?”
“I’m getting there. It looks like he tried to send it to you too, but he typed in your email address incorrectly.”
“Can we get to the “what he wrote” part?”
“He didn’t write much. It just says ‘I’ve run into some trouble with the locals, but I’ve also put some things together. This would be better done in person. I’ll call to set something up’.”
“That’s it?”
“Yeah, that’s the whole thing, verbatim, then some random numbers. Do you know what he’s talking about?”
“No. It sounds like he found something.”
“But what? Randy?”
“Since someone killed Stick, it would be probably better for Randy to stay hidden.”
“Do you think the part about trouble with the locals is about who killed him?”