Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery Box Set

by Jamie Lee Scott

  This was too much to bear. “And this man was going to have a new baby in the house,” I laughed as I spoke.

  “Twins.”

  I nearly choked. Gathering my wits back about me, I asked, “So what happened with the wife?”

  Cortnie looked at me. “I don’t know.”

  We were turning onto Alvin Drive. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

  “Do you have that phony badge you used to flash when we were in the Navy?”

  I pulled my wallet from my jacket pocket. “It’s not phony. It’s Navy issue police.”

  “You were military police?”

  “It’s a long, classified story. Wish I could tell you.” Or not.

  “Liar.”

  “What?”

  “You don’t wish you could tell me, or you would. Shithead.” Cortnie parked the van across the street from the address on the file.

  I was checking the facts quickly, so I could play it by ear when we knocked on the door. I looked across the street to see the house had a “for sale” sign, with the little sticker that let everyone know the house was sold.

  “We might be too late.” I put the file on the floorboards of the van.

  Cortnie reached between the seats and pulled out a magnetic light, and a flashing light that looked like they belonged to a police vehicle. She rolled down her window and attached the light near her side mirror, and the flasher on the roof.

  “What the hell?”

  She grinned. “Makes us look more official, don’t you think?”

  Whatever. I didn’t even bother to respond. I pointed to the sign on the lawn.

  “Only one way to find out.” Cortnie got out of the van.

  I waited for her to cross the street, then I followed, scoping out the neighborhood as I approached the house.

  Cortnie knocked, then stood to the side of the door. She’d watched way too many cop shows.

  I moved past her and pounded hard on the door. There, that’d wake someone up.

  We waited.

  After about a minute, Cortnie put her ear to the door. “I don’t hear any movement.”

  “Step back.” I didn’t want her standing in the doorway if Randy was getting locked and loaded. I pounded so hard, I could hear the door frame creak.

  Still nothing.

  “Let’s come back later. We have plenty to do today.” Cortnie started down the walkway.

  I hesitated, but then I heard the groaning of the electric garage door. Whoever was at home had heard us alright; they just ignored us and thought they’d sneak away in their vehicle.

  I caught up with Cortnie, who stood in the middle of the driveway, daring the driver to run her over. I, on the other hand, was more pragmatic. I pulled out my Walther PPK and aimed it at the driver’s window.

  The look on the guy’s face was priceless. I do believe that if he peed his pants while being arrested, he may have just crapped his pants right now. There was a moment’s hesitation, as he considered how good a shot I might be.

  I yelled, “Ever heard of Raylan Givens? Yeah, I make him look slow.”

  Randy made the right decision. He put the car in park and sat with his hands on the steering wheel.

  Cortnie walked up to the door. “Get out.”

  Randy, at least he looked similar to the guy in the arrest report (his eyes were less puffy and red), opened the door and started to get out. He looked more like a kid in his twenties, than a man in his thirties. His thick hair cropped short in a buzz cut, did nothing to make him look intimidating, though he tried with his facial expression.

  “Dude, turn off the car. You’re wasting gas, and killing trees.” I was suddenly an environmentalist.

  He turned the car off and stepped out, leaning against the back door of a 1972 Ford Torino station wagon. Hell, I didn’t even know there were any of these left on the streets. When it had been running, I could tell it didn’t have the standard engine under the hood. Maybe Randy liked to play with cars.

  “Who the hell are you and what do you want?” The man was shaking.

  Cortnie snapped at me. “Put the gun away.”

  I still had it pointed at his chest. Oops, my bad.

  “I’m Detective Parks, and this is Detective Criss. We’re here to talk to you about your arrest for soliciting a prostitute.” I wasn’t technically lying, since we did both have our private detective license from the great state of California. I just left out the private part.

  His skin went from pale to green, and his shiver to near convulsions. “I paid the fine. What else do you want from me?”

  There was no way this wimp had what it takes to kidnap a woman, wrap a chain around her neck, and choke her to death, much less drag her across a parking lot. I looked at his noodle-like frame and waited for him to collapse. This guy was more fragile than Mimi’s ego.

  I hated good cop/bad cop, so I waited to see how Cortnie was going to play it. I hoped it was a good cop.

  “Mr. Baxter, can I call you Randy?” She leaned in close, a broad smile on her face.

  “No.” He nearly spat the word at her.

  My turn. I leaned in closer than Cortnie had, my face practically touching his. “Randy, babe, you did what you did. Don’t be hating on us because you broke the law and got caught.”

  “Get out of my face. You don’t know anything.” He was so close I could smell the coffee on his breath.

  “I know you were arrested for soliciting a prostitute on Market Street. I know you were booked into the jail, and that you peed your pants like the pissy little cry baby you are.” So much for my good cop. Damn, and I really thought I could pull it off.

  Randy stared, speechless.

  “You want more? You begged like a little girl to be arrested for DUI, so your wife… yeah, that’s right, your wife was in the hospital giving birth to your spawn--”

  “That’s enough. What do you want from me?” His entire body rigid, he gripped the handle of the driver’s door like it was a lifeline.

  Cortnie tried again. “Mr. Baxter, where were you last night?”

  He turned his head, looking into the garage. He still hadn’t pressed the button to close the door. I looked, too. Was he expecting someone?

  “I was working. I’m a firefighter. I work twenty-four on, twenty-four off. Yesterday was my twenty-four on.”

  I looked at my watch. Something didn’t add up. “What time does your shift start?”

  Without thinking it through, he said, “Eight in the morning.”

  I made a specific point of looking at my watch again. “What time is it now?”

  He seemed lost, so I put my watch in front of his face. “Seven fifteen.”

  His whole body collapsed against the car, and he dropped his hands.

  “Want to start over?” I asked.

  “I was at work. You can go to the station on Romie Lane, that’s where I work.” He paused. “Look, my wife left me after the incident. She took the kids and moved in with her mother. We’re fighting a custody battle, and I left work early today because I’m having issues, and I have to get a new attorney.”

  I frowned at his pockmarked face. “You have the whole day off, and you left work early? What a putz.”

  Randy shook his head. “It’s not like that. I’d done a guy a favor, and he was returning it. He came in early, because I had to come home for some paperwork I didn’t want to leave at the station, or in my car.” He looked in through the window and pointed. “See, on the seat.”

  “What makes you think a judge is going to award a slimeball sleazebag custody of small children? You couldn’t even keep your pecker in your pants while your wife was having your children.” Cortnie stepped away from him as if he had the Avian Bird Flu.

  “Liking sex isn’t a reason to keep my kids from me,” Randy defended.

  “Oh, my man, you’re wrong. It’s not about the sex, it’s about the sex act. What perv solicits a hooker while his wife is in labor?” I shivered at the creepiness of it.

>   Randy blew out a breath. “Fine, what I did was wrong, but we hadn’t had sex since she found out she conceived. I had blue balls, man. I had to do something, and I didn’t want to cheat on her,” he whined.

  Cortnie and I shared a glance. What a moron. He was too stupid and self-absorbed to have planned Lena’s murder, and he was too frail to be able to strangle a kitten. He was a firefighter? No way, EMT maybe.

  Just to make sure we left an impression, I got in his face. “Go get yourself a good lawyer. We’re going to the fire station to check out your story. If you lied to us, if you weren’t on duty last night, or if no one wanted to cook and you were the one who volunteered to get dinner, I’m going to come back and rip your ass in two. Got it?”

  Sweat beaded on his upper lip. “Wha-what’s your badge number? This is harassment. I don’t even know why you want to know where I was. You have to tell me at least that. What are you coming after me for?”

  I stepped away and waved my hand in his face. “We don’t have to tell you squat.”

  I walked back to the car, leaving Cortnie the last word.

  “Randy Baxter, if I find out you had anything to do with the murder of one the police department’s prostitution decoys, I’m going to personally castrate you before they come to arrest you. Are we clear?”

  Randy slid down the car into a sitting position on the driveway. His arms rested on his knees. “I actually thought I did something.”

  That was the last I heard before I was out of earshot.

  Cortnie opened the van’s door and stood for a moment before climbing in. “What a douche bag. No way he killed Lena. He couldn’t fight his way out of an Easy Bake Oven.” She turned the key in the ignition. “Where to next?”

  99

  Mimi

  Mimi

  In the past, moments of silence between Nick and I were comfortable. When you know someone, you don’t have to be talking every single moment. The silence is nice sometimes. You could even say a lot is said by saying nothing. This wasn’t one of those times. The silence was awkward, and I wanted to be anywhere, but in the car with Nick. A hundred different questions came to mind, but I couldn’t force myself to ask them. He’d think I was being too nosy, too flip, or too jealous.

  The thing I was jealous of was him. He had moved on with his life, not giving what he had a second thought, being a cop, and probably sleeping with a different woman every night. I had to admit, I’d rather him have several women than have one. The question on the tip of my lips was, “So, dating anyone?” I didn’t dare say it out loud.

  “No, the job’s been keeping me pretty busy. Getting ready for Piper to take her leave, we’re doing our best to clear up reports, and get any other paperwork for the courts in order.”

  Who the hell was he talking to? I looked around the car. It was just us. Oh, holy mother of a goat, I’d asked the question aloud. My cheeks burned. What did I say to that? I sucked in a breath and said, “Well, I guess that keeps you out of trouble.”

  “I could use a little trouble. My life has been too boring. How about you?”

  I couldn’t look at him. “Not boring at all. This decoy thing has been keeping us busy enough, and the pay is good. And Uta, well, that woman is a godsend. Her online marketing skills are extraordinary. She’s brought in more business than we can handle with Jackie being gone.”

  Nick looked at me and offered a crooked smile. “So Jackie’s in love? How do you feel about that?”

  “What do you mean, how do I feel about that? I’m so happy for her I could burst.” How was I supposed to feel? Mad, because my love life had tanked, and I didn’t want my best friend to be happy? That wasn’t happening. Though it did suck that she was never around to gossip with, or for a shoulder to cry on anymore. It’s not that she didn’t care, I just didn’t ask. Why ruin her happiness with my broken heart, broken life, and broken mind?

  Now he was grinning ear to ear. “Good. I would expect nothing less from you.”

  And what the hell did that mean? I wasn’t in the mood for a fight, so I ignored him. I looked out the passenger window as we arrived at Wilma’s apartment complex.

  Nick parked the car on the street instead of pulling into the complex parking lot. Once he’d expertly parallel parked, he leaned back in his seat with his hands resting on the steering wheel.

  “Mimi, what are we doing?”

  With that, the butterflies in my stomach promptly puked. It took every ounce of restraint for me not to open the car door and run. Instead, I looked in Nick’s gray eyes and waited.

  “I know you had a date with that guy who was arrested. I know you have more set up, because Charles told me you did. And truth be told, we’re sitting together in this car because…” Suddenly, his attention was no longer on me. “Let’s go.”

  Let’s go? What? I looked behind me and saw Wilma was in the parking lot. Damn, I wanted to hear what he had to say. The butterflies had settled, and I was ready for him to split the sheets for good. He’d wanted to be alone so he could, once and for all, cut me off. He had no desire to go back to the way things were, and we couldn’t seem to talk the Dominic situation out without a fight, so I was sure this was it. I’d never again ride in a car with Nick. Tears welled in my eyes as I stepped out of the car. I nonchalantly wiped them away and followed behind Nick as he approached Wilma.

  She stopped dead in her tracks. I couldn’t tell what the look on her face meant. Could be terror, happiness, flirting. That was it. As soon as she saw Nick, her hip jutted out, and her breasts pushed up a little higher in her leopard print top. The short black skirt she wore did nothing for the elephant skin on her legs. Saggy and wrinkly from overexposure, they looked like a hundred-year-old elephant, or a flaccid penis.

  “Wilma,” I called out.

  She stopped, almost annoyed until she saw Nick.

  I introduced her to Nick and explained who he was. It didn’t seem to dawn on her that he was here because her daughter was dead.

  “Well, Detective Christianson, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Her voice a low purr.

  Then she looked at me and winked.

  I didn’t respond. I was still pissed at her for interrupting the moment I was having with Nick.

  I was sure I didn’t understand this woman. Did she have no remorse for her dead daughter?

  Oozing charm, Nick said, “Where you headed so early?”

  She shrugged her shoulder, “Work. You know how it is. A girl has to pay her bills.”

  “Do you have a minute?”

  She stepped between Nick and me, putting her arm in his. “For you, absolutely.”

  I may as well have been another car in the lot at that moment.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss, Ms. Dahl.” Nick allowed the woman’s arm to remain in his.

  “Wilma, call me Wilma. And thank you. A mother should never have to bury her child.” She sniffled.

  “Do you need a tissue?” I asked.

  Her head snapped round so fast I thought she’d break her neck. “No thanks. I’m fine.” Her words clipped.

  “You moved here from Minneapolis, is that right?” Nick’s voice soothing and semi-flirty.

  She loosened her grip on his arm. “Why do you ask?”

  “According to the forms Lena filled out, she had a sister named Jane, and she mentioned you all lived in Minneapolis. Were you married at the time?”

  Wilma pushed off Nick. “How do you know I’m not married now?”

  Nick’s eyes danced as he said, “I sure hope you aren’t, or your husband might get mad at me.” He lifted her left hand. “And no ring.”

  Wilma giggled. “No, I’m not married.” She looked at the asphalt and moved the loose gravel around with the toe of her hot pink stilettos. “It’s just me and Lena…”

  “Again, so sorry for your loss. Jane didn’t come to Salinas with you?”

  Wilma sniffed and wiped the back of her hand across her nose. “Jane’s been gone for a while.”

  “Go
ne?”

  Wilma looked up at Nick, tears rolling down her cheeks. “My Jane was murdered before we moved to California. And now my Lena.” She choked back a sob. “God hates me.” She let the sobs flow freely.

  Nick wrapped his arms around the woman, and she cried into his chest, still holding her hands up near her face. The gray of his shirt now turning black with the tears and Wilma’s mascara, but Nick seemed unfazed. Gradually her hands lowered and she gripped his waist as if she was going to squeeze him in half.

  Nick patted her hair lightly. “I know this is upsetting for you, but can you tell me what happened to Jane?”

  Maybe she could shed some light we couldn’t get from our online search.

  Wilma looked up, mascara running down her cheeks, her eyes like raccoons. “Murdered. My little girl was dumped in an alley like yesterday’s trash.” Sniff, sniff. She regained her composure and explained, “Jane was lost to me long before she died. She’d been on the streets for a few years, and about a month before they found her, she’d come home, promising she was clean and straight. Promising she was going to do something with her life. She asked if she could stay with me and Lena for a few months while she got herself back in school, and on the right track. I told her she could, but we’d take it one day at a time.”

  “So they found her killer?” I asked. This was what I’d fallen asleep trying to figure out.

  “No, Lena and me, we waited, hoping for answers, waiting for Jane’s day in court, but it never came. The day after Lena earned her Master’s degree, we packed up and moved here. Lena said we needed to leave the bad memories behind. Not sure why she wanted to move to Salinas. It’s not like she had a job here or anything, but she was able to get a job fast. And so was I.”

  How this woman was still functional was beyond me. I couldn’t imagine having both of my daughters murdered. I see now, she’d tried to stay strong, be brave, but once the story of Jane came out, she couldn’t do it anymore. I wanted to hug her, hold her and tell her I understood what it was like to lose a loved one. Then I looked at her and I didn’t think I wanted to be all that close.