by Nora Kane
“That’s not enough to make a judgment. There are all sorts of trouble a person could have, but it doesn’t usually end in murder.”
“I guess this one could have stayed in my junk folder for all the help it is.”
“Did you say there were numbers?”
“Yeah, but they don’t seem to mean anything. It could be a phone number, I guess. There are seven digits, but it reads like two big numbers with the letter ‘X’ at the end.”
“They must mean something. Tell me what they are.”
“It could be three, three, two, one, one, six, three but because of the decimal point, I’d say it’s thirty-three point two and one hundred and sixteen point three followed by an X. Any of that mean anything to you?”
“No, but maybe Stick’s partner might be able to make something of it.”
“Dad called this morning. He still wants to talk to you.”
Margot ignored that and said, “Could you forward that email to me?”
“Of course. Did you hear what I said?”
“I did, but we’ve already covered that subject.”
“You said you’d think about it.”
“Yeah, and I’m still thinking it would be a bad idea.”
“Are you going to take over looking for Randy?”
“He’s part of a murder investigation now. His second one, I might add. I need to stay out of it.”
“You don’t think he had something to do with Mr. Stickly, do you?”
“I don’t know what to think. I do know he died working on finding Randy so it’s not unrealistic to think Randy is involved. The cops are going to think so.”
“Do you think so?”
“I don’t know what to think. I don’t see Randy getting the jump on Stick, but who knows what might have happened. I do know that, if I start digging around while the police are investigating a homicide, they’re not going to like it.”
“Since when has that bothered you?”
Margot knew her sister had a point. Instead of replying to that, she said, “I’ve got to get going. I’m still on the job. I’ll talk to you later.”
Margot ended the call before Melanie could reply. She dialed Stick’s office. She got Ms. Collins, who explained Mr. Crenshaw was in a meeting, but he would be done in about twenty minutes. Margot was about twenty minutes away, so she started driving.
Chapter 5
On the way, Margot’s phone buzzed again. She didn’t recognize the number, but it could be new business, so she answered.
“Margot Harris, how can I help you?”
“I can think of a couple of ways, Ms. Harris. This is Deputy Brantley. We met this morning.”
“I remember. How do you want me to help you?”
Brantley laughed and Margot got the feeling he was thinking something sexual. She regretted giving him the opening. He had seemed okay at her place, but he had been with Ames and Radcliff, so he might have been on his best behavior.
To his credit, he ignored the opening and simply said, “I know Detective Ames told you to stay away from this case, but I was thinking having your help wouldn’t be so bad. We don’t get a lot of homicides out in the desert. I’m getting the feeling I might be in this over my head.”
“I’m just a private detective. This kind of thing is over my head too.”
“No, I don’t think it is. I did a little research. You weren’t always a private detective. The fact is, you’ve solved more homicides that I have.”
“Ames and Radcliff are as good as it gets. You don’t need me.”
“Okay, think about it though. I’ve got the badge and you’ve got know-how. We might make a good team.”
“I’ll think about it,” she replied before adding, “Do these numbers mean anything to you? 33.2 116.7.”
“No, should it?”
“Maybe, maybe not.”
“This have something to do with Mr. Stickly?”
“It could.”
“Take away the decimal points and you have a phone number.”
“Yeah, I noticed. No area code though.”
“If it does have to do with Stickly, you could try ours. It’s either 442 or 760 like you guys.”
“I’ll do that, thanks.”
“Can we talk later? I’m in town tonight. I could buy you dinner and you could give me some tips.”
Margot started to turn him down, but the fact was, she wanted to be in the loop on the investigation.
“Okay, but it stays professional.”
“Of course. That was my intention all along. I’m a happily married man.”
“Would you believe that I’ve heard that before?”
“I suppose you have. This time, however, it’s true.”
“There’s a place called Layla’s West. They don’t have food, but there’s usually a food truck nearby and Stan is cool with bringing the food in. Meet you there around six?”
“I can do that.”
“See you then.”
Margot tried the figures as a phone number using both area codes and neither one belonged to anybody. By the time she had finished listening to the recorded voice say, “This number is no longer in service,” she was at the office building where Stick and Shaw rented office space. She parked in front next to a newer looking Nissan SUV with a vanity license plate that read “PI SHAW.” Judging by his new car and office Shaw was doing a lot better than Margot at the private investigation game.
Next to Shaw’s vehicle was a 1970s vintage white Cadillac convertible. Even though it was nearly fifty years old, it looked like it was in a lot better shape than Margot’s Prius. Since Margot didn’t picture Ms. Collins driving around in a car like that, she figured it had to be the client Shaw was seeing.
Ms. Collins, who looked like she should be somebody’s grandma, smiled when Margot came in and told her, “He should be done soon. Can you wait?”
“Of course.”
Margot sat down. Ms. Collins looked up from her computer and asked, “Did you know Stick very well?”
Margot shook her head, “We’d run into each other, but no. He seemed like a good guy and had a great reputation.”
“I can tell you all that was true,” Ms. Collins said as she fought back tears.
Margot didn’t say anything as Ms. Collins regained her composure. She knew she shouldn’t feel any guilt; Stick was a professional who did this kind of work for a living, but Margot couldn’t help it. If she hadn’t hired him to do a job she should have been doing, he’d still be alive.
Once Ms. Collins seemed to have it back together Margot told her, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known.”
Margot didn’t reply to that. She knew Randy took money from the cartel and any time they were involved; death was always a possibility. She didn’t think when she hired Stick that she was sending him to his death, but to say she couldn’t have known wasn’t really accurate either.
The door opened and a short man with thick arms walked into the lobby. He was wearing a cowboy hat, western shirt, and boots.
He looked at Margot, smiled and, tipping his hat, said, “Afternoon ma’am.”
“If you say so,” Margot replied.
He smiled again, showing some gold teeth, and told her, “I certainly do,” before he walked out of the office.
“Mr. Crenshaw should be ready to see you,” Ms. Collins said after the cowboy left.
Margot said, “Thanks,” before heading back to Shaw’s office.
He was sitting at his desk staring at his computer when Margot walked in.
“Could you give me a minute?” Shaw asked her as thick fingers pounded on the keyboard.
Back in his days as a cop, Shaw had been built like a linebacker but since going private, he’d grown soft around the middle.
Margot nodded and sat down in the comfortable chair facing his desk. While he worked on the computer, she checked her phone and found her sister had forwarded her the email from Stick. Margo
t went ahead and forwarded it to Radcliff and Ames.
Shaw finished what he was doing and looked at Margot. She handed him her phone. Shaw read the message.
“Not much there,” he said.
“Those numbers mean anything to you?”
“No. In fact, it’s weird. Why would he send you a bunch of random numbers? With that X there, it looks like half of a really hard math problem.”
“I was hoping you could tell me.”
“I wish I could. Is this the only communication?”
“Yeah.”
“Did you pass it on to the cops?”
“Yeah, just did.”
“Good, it’ll save me the trouble.”
“You talked to him about the case?”
“Not really.”
“You knew he sent an email.”
“Stick had a way of doing things and one of them was sending daily reports even if he didn’t have much to say. Or in this case, all he had to say was something cryptic and vague. He was onto something. Too bad he didn’t say what.”
“Was he always like that?”
“You mean cryptic? No, but if he did playthings close to the vest, especially if he hadn’t figured everything out. He took the confidential part seriously and didn’t like to talk out of school.”
“Even to his partner?”
“Yeah, even to his partner. I used to think it was a good quality, but now I wished he talked more. We might have some idea who killed him beyond ‘locals’.”
Margot nodded.
“Are you going to take up where Stick left off? I take it your sister's friend is still missing.”
“He is, but I’m out of it. What are you going to do?”
“About Stick? I don’t know. He was my partner and my friend. We were like a family over here: Stick, Ms. Collins, and I. But I don’t know what I can do that the homicide cops can’t. Ames is good and the kid he’s partnered up with seems sharp too. It sucks, but the best thing to do is to sit back and let them handle it. All I’d do is get in the way.”
“I figured I’d do the same,” Margot told him. “If what happened to Randy and his mother doesn’t come out during the investigation, I suppose I might need to take up where Stick left off, but I’m going to worry about that when it happens.”
“It sounds like this Randy character isn’t exactly a prize. Stick was on the job and the job has risks, but this asshole Randy doesn’t seem worth risking your life for.”
“Stick tell you about Randy?” Margot asked.
She might have let something slip during her interview, her contempt for Randy was hard to hide, but she thought she had made a point to leave out Randy’s history with both her and Melanie. Stick was an investigator, so it wasn’t impossible he had learned about Randy without Margot’s help.
“Not really, just some broad strokes. Like I said, he kept things close to the vest.”
Margot nodded. She stood up and said, “If you hear anything, can you let me know? I feel like shit getting Stick involved in this and I think I’m going to feel worse if they don’t catch the piece of shit who did this.”
“Of course.”
Margot stood up and saw herself out. She was at the door when she thought about what Shaw had said about them all being family. She turned around and went back to Ms. Collins’s desk.
“Can I do something else for you, Ms. Harris?”
“Did Stick say anything to you about what he found in the desert?”
“No, he didn’t talk about his work very often and this was no exception.”
Margot nodded. “He sent a number to my email.”
“A number?”
Margot got out her phone and instead of reading off the numbers, let Ms. Collins look at it herself.
“Does that mean anything to you?”
“It could be a phone number. The dots are in weird places for a phone number though and I don’t know what the X would mean. If it is a phone number, it’s not one I recognize. Did you show this to Shaw?”
“Yeah, it didn’t mean anything to him either.”
“Sorry, I wish I could help.”
“That’s okay, I just thought I’d ask.”
Chapter 6
Deputy Brantley was already there sitting at the table against the back wall Margot used to do business. He was out of uniform, but he still had the hat. He had a light beer in front of him and two plates of fish tacos from the truck outside. Margot had showed up early, planning to beat him there. In these situations, she liked to be the one with her back against the wall. Apparently, he felt the same way.
She gave Stan behind the bar a nod and saw he was already pouring her a Maker’s Mark over ice. She went over and picked it up, even though he would have brought it out to her.
“Has the cowboy been here long?” she asked as he handed her the drink.
“Nah, five minutes tops. If I’d known you were coming in, I’d have made him get another table.”
“Don’t worry about it. He come in alone?”
“Yeah. Is he trouble?”
“Probably not.”
“Where’s your scary friend?” Stan said, referring to Mal.
Margot wondered the same thing. They weren’t seeing eye to eye lately, but she had no doubts that if she called and asked him, he would be there watching her back. She knew if he called her, she would be doing the same.
She didn’t want to get into her and Mal’s situation so just said, “He’s been busy. It should be fine.”
Stan nodded and Margot joined Brantley.
He pointed at the untouched plate of tacos. “I got you one. If this isn’t your thing, I’ll eat them. They’re pretty good.”
“I know. Sorry, but you’re going to have to make do with one plate.”
“Only if the truck leaves before we’re done here.”
“Thanks, by the way,” Margot said between bites.
“If I’d known what you drink, I’d have got you one of those too.”
“I appreciate that, but I can buy my own drinks. Did you get the email?”
“What email?”
“Stick’s last email. He sent it to my sister, but she didn’t open it until I called her. I forwarded it to Ames and Radcliff. I figured they’d send it on to you.”
“Not yet, they didn’t. I doubt they’ll be communicating with me much. I’m a small-town sheriff and they’re big city detectives. Hell, I’m not even the sheriff, I’m just a deputy. The only reason I’m here is because the sheriff figures this is all just a waste of time.”