Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery Box Set

by Jamie Lee Scott

  “It will,” I said.

  She glared at me. Ouch.

  “Okay. I’ll call you later. We’re headed out for a late lunch, but I’ll be at the station all night if you need me.”

  Richard looked up. “Wait, you aren’t going to press charges?”

  Nick grimaced at the blood running down Richard’s face. “For what?”

  As I got in the driver’s side of Nick’s car and climbed over to the passenger seat, I heard Richard say, “Don’t leave me here alone with her.”

  Wilma rolled her eyes and got in her own car.

  I said, “Yikes. That was messy.”

  Nick laughed. “More like fucked up.”

  “And what was with the ‘We had plans’ comment she kept repeating?”

  Nick started the car, in a hurry to get the hell out of there. “Who knows? Maybe he promised to leave his wife.”

  “Why did you ask her for her passport? Is she really a suspect?”

  “Right now, everyone is a suspect. I don’t have a clue where to start on this one. Every lead I had was a dead end. The only promising lead is what happened to Jane, and maybe the dad has followed them to California. And what about that bomb?”

  “That makes me sick to think about. Not one, but two kids by her father. Lena didn’t look inbred.”

  Nick looked at me and rolled his eyes. “They don’t all look like the characters from Deliverance.”

  “‘He got a real pretty mouth, ain’t he?’” I grinned when I said it.

  “I can’t even tell you how much it scares me that you can quote lines from that movie.” Nick drove away from Main Street, back towards the residential area.

  “Can’t everyone?” I looked out the back of the car. “Aren’t we going to eat?”

  “I thought I’d make us something at my place.”

  With those words, every thought of Lena, Wilma, Richard, and Deliverance went right out of my head.

  105

  Mimi

  Charles had been AWOL for more hours than I cared to count. When I tried his cell phone the next morning, it went straight to voicemail. This bothered me, so I rolled over and kissed Nick on the shoulder to wake him up.

  The feel of his bare skin on mine felt so good and so familiar.

  “What’s up?” The morning breath? Not so much.

  I covered my mouth and nose, and said, “I need a favor.”

  “Anything.”

  “I need you to get a GPS reading on a cell phone number.” I sat up in bed.

  “Charles?” He sat up and picked up his phone from the nightstand.

  “I’m worried about him. It’s not like him to be out of touch for so long.”

  “He’s a man with a broken heart. Have you even known him with a broken heart?”

  I had to admit I’d never seen him this way.

  “Go jump in the shower. I’ll call the station, see what they can do, and I’ll make us a quick breakfast.”

  I watched him get out of bed and marveled at the shape of his tight, hard ass. Yowza! And the way the muscles rolled into the curve of his hamstrings made me want to pull him back into bed. But then I remembered how good I looked since I’d lost a few pounds, so I got out of bed and gave him an eyeful.

  I heard his breath catch in mid-sentence as he was talking to the officer on the other end of the phone. Yeah, baby, that’s what I like. I wiggled my butt a little as I walked into the bathroom to take a shower. Then I turned around and winked, and I swear Nick was blushing.

  I’d hoped Nick would join me in the shower, but no such luck, and when I got out, he was still on the phone. Like any good private detective, I had a clean pair of panties in my purse, so I switched them out, putting the stinky ones in a Ziplock baggie first. Then I put on my pants from the previous day. I wasn’t going to wear a smelly day-old shirt, so I looked in Nick’s closet to see if I’d left any clothes behind, and found a T-shirt that may or may not have been mine. It was plain white, and clean, so I put it on.

  In the kitchen, I was expecting a nice breakfast, but instead Nick sat at the table with sheets of binder paper scattered across the table, and notes scribbled on half of the pages. I kept hearing him say, “Uh, huh… uh, huh” into the phone, then he jotted down more notes. I wanted to be nosy and look over his shoulder, but in between writing, he pointed to the coffee pot, then to his empty cup.

  I grabbed the pot, came back and filled his cup, then grabbed a cup from the cabinet and filled one for me. I hoped and prayed he had creamer in the fridge, because I’m not the black coffee kind of girl. I like my coffee like I like my men, piping hot, and the color of mocha. I rolled my eyes at myself for that one.

  “Mimi and I are coming in.” He hung up the phone.

  “Charles?” I leaned against the counter with my hands wrapped around my coffee cup.

  “That was Cortnie. I did get a ping on the cell phone tower for Charles’s phone. I can’t tap into it for calls, because I’d need a warrant, or probable cause for that, but it pings off the tower near Pacific Grove.” He showed me a Post-it note with his scribbling.

  I sighed. That would be his old house. “Anthony. That’s why he’s out of touch.”

  “I guess it’s his way of telling you to stay out of it.” Nick scooped up his papers and put them in a manila envelope.

  “You know, an iPad would make things so much neater.” I pushed off the counter.

  “Yep,” he said, and grabbed his keys from the hook. “Let’s roll.”

  I poured my coffee in the sink and put the cup in the dishwasher. Nick drank from his cup and handed it to me. I placed it next to mine.

  “There’s soap in there, just hit the button.”

  I did.

  “Shower?” I asked.

  “I’ll take one at the station later.” He grabbed a gym bag as we headed to the garage.

  Cortnie had everything spread out on the conference table at the Gotcha office when we arrived. By now, I’d been briefed on the new information she’d been giving Nick over the phone.

  Nick and I had made a pit stop at Starbucks on the way. I drank my peppermint mocha and bit off the end of my blueberry scone while Cortnie put papers in order. She drank the mocha I bought her while she set up her laptop.

  “I have something else you’ll find interesting. Excuse me.”

  Cortnie brought up a screen with Central Valley Bank’s logo. “Lena said she was doing the decoy program because she was broke, but look at this.” Cortnie clicked a few more buttons.

  I stared at the screen. Cortnie pointed.

  “Her checking account is empty. She doesn’t have any savings. But this is all with Central Valley. Now let’s go to American Bank.” She clicked a few keys, bypassed a few firewalls, and we were in.

  “Is this legal?” I asked.

  “We aren’t going to steal anything,” Cortnie said. “But if we wanted to…” she pointed at the screen. Bank transfers, lots of bank transfers, from Central Valley Bank to a trust fund in the name of Jane Dahl, and the trustees were Lena and Wilma Dahl.

  “Where is American Bank?” I asked.

  Cortnie backed out of the trustee account and I saw that American Bank was located in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

  I gasped.

  Nick said, “Well, damn it!”

  “Jane Dahl is Lena’s dead sister, Wilma’s dead daughter. So how and why is money being transferred into an account for a dead woman?” Cortnie asked.

  Nick said, “We all know who Jane is. What I want to know is where is this money coming from and what the hell is going on?”

  “Remember when Wilma kept saying to Richard, ‘We had plans. We had plans.’ I wonder if this is what she meant? If it is, then why is all of this money in Lena’s name?” I asked.

  Cortnie corrected me. “Really, it’s in Lena, Wilma, and Jane’s names. And the only person left is Wilma. And of all things, the night Lena was killed, the account was emptied. Who emptied it, and why?”

  “It would
definitely explain why Wilma isn’t so upset about the death of her daughter,” I said.

  “But wouldn’t you expect her to at least play the part? She’d be better off to at least act like she was devastated.”

  Cortnie had a point.

  “This is all for you, Nick.” Cortnie pointed to the sheets of paper on the table. “I know you are a hard copy kind of guy.”

  “Shred it,” Nick snapped.

  I looked at him, eyes wide. He seemed tense this morning.

  “I’ll get on the horn to Minneapolis, and you can pick up your car and go home, or come back here,” he said. He turned to Cortnie, “Can you clear the history on your computer?”

  “I’m on it.” She started tapping keys on her computer.

  “Who else knows about this?”

  “It’s Sunday morning, so no one. I haven’t talked to Charles since early yesterday. He’s not returning my calls.” She looked to me for an answer.

  I shrugged.

  “I’ll get the paper shredded right away. You have the numbers you need. And the history is erased.” She wiped her hands like she was cleaned of the situation.

  “Okay then, just what I wanted on a Sunday morning: a good dose of Wilma Dahl and her cigarette smoke.” I followed after Nick, my coffee still in my hand. I turned back to Cortnie. “Lola is in the garage, so don’t let her out in the yard by accident. I’ll get her when I get back.”

  “Will she be okay in there?” Cortnie looked concerned.

  “As far as she’s concerned, no. In reality, she’s fine. She has a bed, food, water, and a doggy door to a small yard in the back.” Nick hadn’t slowed down, so I turned and ran to catch up. “Thanks so much for this, by the way,” I yelled on the way out the door.

  When I turned around, I almost mowed down Uta. I skidded to a halt just in time.

  In pure Uta fashion, completely nonplussed, she said, “Good morning. I was on my way to church, and I saw cars, so I thought I’d see if you needed help.” Then she saw Cortnie. “Oh, and Charles asked me to deliver this to you personally. He said it was very important that you understand it’s classified, and that you look at the “read me” file first.”

  Cortnie accepted the flash drive from Uta. “Thank you. Now get to church, young lady. You shouldn’t be here on a Sunday. Enjoy your day off.”

  Uta waved and left.

  I looked behind me as I walked out. “I think I love her.”

  Cortnie absent-mindedly said, “I know I do.”

  Wilma’s house wasn’t far, and I felt I was getting way too familiar with the route. I’m sure she was tired of seeing my face, too.

  This time, Nick didn’t park on the street. He parked his car directly behind Wilma’s and we headed up to her apartment. He knocked politely and waited. Then he knocked again.

  “Knock harder,” I said, impatient.

  Nick glared.

  “Sorry.”

  He knocked harder.

  I reached past him and tried the doorknob.

  Nick grabbed my hand just as the door pushed open. “Mimi!”

  “Oops.” I was going to say sorry, but that would be a lie.

  I pushed the door a little further and nearly gagged at the smell of secondhand smoke and stale tobacco. As I put my hand over my mouth, I realized there was another odor, more rancid than the stale tobacco. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.

  Through my fingers, I said, “I hope she’s not humping Richard in the bedroom.”

  Nick put his finger over his lips. He pulled out his service revolver and turned right, heading down the hallway. We’d already peeked into the kitchen when we entered the apartment, and the living room was right in front of us, so we could see it was unoccupied, other than the furniture and a nice collection of crocheted Afghan blankets. I had left my weapon in my bag in Nick’s car, so I stayed behind him.

  At the first door, which I assumed was the bathroom, Nick pushed it open, and I was right, bathroom. And that was as far as we needed to go. Wilma didn’t answer the door because she was in the bathtub.

  Nick relaxed, but only a little. “Call 911. I’m going to check the rest of the house.”

  Reluctantly, I stepped inside the bathroom and pulled my cell phone out to call 911. I couldn’t help but look toward the tub. As with most apartments, the bathroom was pristine white, unless you counted the burgundy red blood spilling onto the floor.

  Nick hadn’t stopped to check Wilma’s pulse, because her gray skin made it obvious that she’d been completely drained of blood. I looked at the position of her body, what was in the room, what wasn’t, and I couldn’t help but think something wasn’t right.

  Nick came back into the room. “It’s just us. Did you call 911?”

  I couldn’t tear my gaze from Wilma’s body. “Yes.”

  “You okay?” He put his hand on my shoulder.

  I cocked my head. “No, not really, but I can’t tell you why.”

  “Why not?”

  “That’s just it, I don’t know. Something isn’t right.” I wanted to get closer, but he needed to preserve the scene. “Nick, this is a crime scene.”

  “Mimi, this was a suicide.”

  “Let your CSU work the scene very carefully and see if they feel the same way. And while they do, maybe we can find what, I mean, you can find what you need for the bank numbers. Maybe you can have an officer take me to my car?”

  Nick walked me into the living room, where the television was still on, while he went back into the bathroom to get a better look.

  At some point, Wilma had been watching the local TV station, and a news break came on while I stood there. I didn’t want to contaminate a crime scene, but I did take a step across the room and turned up the volume on the TV.

  The scene on the screen blew me away. I recognized so many faces it was like watching my favorite prime time drama, only the people I knew were the ones wearing the handcuffs.

  “Local authorities have arrested six of their own after an ongoing investigation into bribery, fraud, and extortion. No names have been released, but, as you can see behind me, the arrests have been made at the Munoz Towing yard.”

  The faces on the screen didn’t need to be identified. They had their heads down, but those being escorted out of Munoz Towing were Bruce Gerard, Oscar Ruiz, Mandy Powers, Dave Mathius and Gabriel Garcia, along with the city’s former Chief of Police, Paul Seviers. The rest of the world was white noise, and when my phone vibrated in my pocket, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

  I saw it was Cortnie when I answered.

  “You are not going to believe how badly your boyfriend steered us in the wrong direction,” she said. “I have the flash drive from Charles. Damn Nick had us on a wild goose chase.”

  Nick walked into the room at that very moment.

  “Oh, yes, I do.” I glared. “Stay right where you are, I’ll be right back.”

  I looked at Nick, and it was all I could do not to slap him across the face.

  He looked at the television and said, “I can explain.”

  It happened all at once; the tears came on like a dam unloading. I’d been fooled again. And this time, I had nowhere to go. I didn’t have a car, and I didn’t have the energy to walk back to the office. I didn’t have the anger in me anymore. I had nothing left. I collapsed onto the floor because I didn’t want to sit in the smoke infested chair. Nick caught me before I hit the floor. And then I flailed like a child having a temper tantrum.

  “Get off me. Don’t touch me, you lying son of a bitch.” My arms and legs swinging, I wriggled my body every which way to get away from him. Damn, he was strong.

  “Will you just stop for a minute and listen to me?” He grabbed me even tighter and held me in a bear hug.

  “Why, so you can lie to me some more? Did you take me home last night and have sex with me to keep me from the truth? I can’t even tell you how much I hate you right now.” The tears kept coming.

  “If you’d just shut up and listen for
a minute, you’d be able to stop crying, and you wouldn’t hate me.” His patience was wearing thin.

  I did my best to get a grip. Not because I wanted to hear more lies, but because then he could give me a ride back to the office, and I’d be done with him for good.

  “Charles was aware of what was going on. He found the flash drive in Lena’s apartment last night.” Nick sighed, and loosened his grip on me slightly. “I asked him not to give it to you until today.”

  “Charles knew? And he didn’t say anything?”

  “Part of the reason he wasn’t responding to you was because this was big news, and he knew he couldn’t keep it to himself. He promised me he’d sit on it until this morning. But part of it was that he did go to talk to Anthony.” He let go of me a little more.

  I’d stopped crying, only because I was now plotting Charles’s death. “What the hell?”

  “Let’s go back to the office, so I don’t have to explain this twice.” Nick let go of my body before grabbing my hand. “And last night was about us, not this case.”

  He kissed me, but I wasn’t completely convinced. I was still plotting two murders.

  When we got to the office, Cortnie had let Lola into the house.

  “She can howl.”

  I laughed. It felt good. Lola was still mad at me, but she didn’t know she should be mad at Nick, too, and offered him some love by leaning against him. He scrubbed her behind her ears.

  We all went into the reception room and sat.

  “So, you saw the flash drive from Lena’s computer, and Mimi saw the news this morning. Now I can tell you the full story.”

  We sat uncharacteristically silently.

  “The former chief was being investigated, and suddenly decided to leave the police force, offering personal issues as his excuse, which put an end to the investigation. Or so he thought. After Garcia arrived, it came to our attention that something was up in Vice. He’d been keeping an eye on things, and there was the Nelson arrest, then some bribery offers came to light. Apparently, Gabe is squeaky clean and expects his unit to be the same.”

  Nick looked at me. “Lena’s sister was a confidential informant for Gabe back in Minneapolis, and I just found this out, so don’t be pissed at me. When she died, he felt responsible, because he thought he may have gotten her killed. He felt he needed to get out of the city, and since he’s from Salinas, he decided to come back home. Lena apparently thought Gabe killed Jane, so that’s how she ended up here. She thought if she got to know him, she’d find out why or how he killed her. He didn’t kill her. It’s still a cold case, but getting warmer.”