Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery Box Set

by Jamie Lee Scott

“Look, I don’t really like to talk about this, but Skinner has always been in love with Rayna. I was his second choice. I know that, and I’ve learned to live with it. I love that man with all my heart, and I can accept being second. Mojo was also the love of my life. He was the horse of a lifetime. I qualified for the NFR on him two times.” She scanned her body. “I was smaller then.”

  I wasn’t judging. Not really.

  “Five years ago, I got sick. I don’t want to go into the details, but Skinner and I thought I’d never ride again. I didn't think it was fair to Mojo, who loved his job, to never run barrels again, so I sold him to Pam Brown. She was up and coming, and it wasn’t about the money. She promised she’d never let him go without first right of refusal. So when she sold him to the Cox’s, she kept part ownership, in case there was ever a chance I wanted to buy him back. Anyway, with the lawsuit and the liquidation, all that changed.

  “So you see, it’s all a mess. And then Bucky tried to screw Skinner over with that trailer deal. No matter how hard Skinner tries to get out from under Rayna and Bucky, they seem to drag him back. It’s either Rayna or Bucky, but one of them always wants him back. They can’t just leave us be.” She started picking at her fingernails.

  “So you know about Skinner, Rayna, and Bucky?”

  “What’s to know? That Rayna married the wrong man, and she regrets it? That she hates my guts because I got her man? Sure, I know that. That Skinner was in love with her, and he probably still is? I know that, too, but he married me, so Bucky and Rayna will just have to suck it.”

  She didn’t know. “Naomi, Bucky’s dead.”

  Naomi’s skin turned gray. If she hadn’t been sitting down already, I’d have thought she was going to faint. Hell, she still might faint.

  “That’s not even funny.”

  “Someone bashed his head in.” I explained how he was getting Mojo ready for the auction, and that there’d been many visitors at the ranch that morning, but no one had seen anything, or at least no one had come forward as of yet.

  She tried to stand up, but was having trouble getting up from the couch. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

  She didn’t even like the man, and it wasn’t as if she’d witnessed the killing, so I wondered why she was so upset.

  She got up and hustled over to the sink in the break room. She retched, but it was just a dry heave. This happened a couple of more times, then she turned on the water, grabbed a cup from the sideboard, and poured herself a full glass. After gulping it down, she said, “Please tell me that Skinner was with you when Bucky was killed.”

  That was a weird thing to say, but now I understood why she was upset. “I can’t be sure. The police are investigating. I know when Skinner was in our offices, but I don’t know what time Bucky was attacked.”

  She leaned against the counter and drank more water. “No, that’s a stupid question. Skinner would’ve killed him years ago. And not only that, he’d be smarter than that about it, right? He wouldn’t kill him right there by the arena.”

  “I don’t know. I just wanted to ask you a few questions about you and Skinner, and how you were getting along.”

  She pushed off the counter. “How we’re getting along? What’s that got to do with anything?”

  Duh, do I always have to explain the obvious to everyone? “I thought maybe you knew Skinner was having an affair with Rayna. I wondered if you might have killed Bucky, and whether you might go back and kill Rayna, too,” I wanted to say. But I didn’t know that to be true, and that would be so mean.

  Instead, I said, “I don’t know exactly what Skinner’s state of mind was when he left our office. He did mention that there was going to be a horse auction, and that he thought Bucky was screwing over some woman named Pam. He didn’t mention that you used to own the horse. I find it strange that he left that out, but then again, he left out several other facts, too, so I was hoping you might fill me in. And so far, you have filled me in on some things. Would you like me to ask point blank questions?”

  A little snotty, she said, “Yes.”

  Fine. “Was your husband sleeping with Rayna?”

  “I don’t think so.” Her voice caught mid-sentence.

  “Can you be more specific?”

  “No.” The tone made it clear that this line of questioning was finished.

  “Did he have any gripes with Bucky?”

  “Other than the loan Bucky took out with Skinner’s credit, and having Skinner arrested for stealing a saddle that was ours, no.” She wasn’t so snotty about this question.

  “Do you know anything about the contract Bucky had with Pam for Mojo?”

  “I just know that I was about fit to be tied when I found out Pam sold my horse to those people, of all people. The contract had a non-disclosure agreement. At least that’s what Pam said. But it’s all got to be public now that the thing went to court, right?” She seemed to know more than she was saying.

  I’d have to look into the court papers on this, if Cortnie hadn’t already.

  “Have you heard from Skinner this afternoon?” I wasn’t sure if this question was going to send her flying into a rage or not.

  Her face turned bright red, but she remained calm. “He called in sick today. He’s never called in sick for work in our entire marriage. And then you say he was at your office this morning. Something’s up, because he’s not answering my calls to his cell phone, either. I figured he was sleeping, but apparently he’s not.”

  “Why don’t you go home and check on him?” It was an obvious question.

  “We have a load of calves coming in sometime today or tonight. I can’t leave until they get here and are unloaded. And it looks like I’ll be unloading them myself.” Now she looked pissed. “He’s really going to be sick when I get a hold of him.”

  I stood. I didn’t know what else I was going to find out from Naomi. “I’m sorry to have bothered and upset you.”

  She walked to the door of the break room with me. “It would have happened eventually. I just can’t believe Bucky’s dead. And Skinner knows?”

  “Yes. Rayna told him.”

  “Damn him. I can’t believe he didn’t tell me.” She shoved her hands deep in her pockets. “He and I need to have a long talk.”

  As I got back in the car, my cell phone rang. It was Cortnie.

  “You are never going to guess what happens to that horse if Bucky dies.”

  115

  Charles

  When I heard the double honk from the driveway, I hated Max within seconds. Really, did the man have no cooth? He couldn’t even be bothered to get out of the damn car, walk to the front door, and knock. I sure as hell wasn’t some dog that would come calling at the sound of a horn honking, that’s for sure.

  I was curious, though, so I went to the living room, and peeked through the drapes. My breath stopped at that very moment, and I forgot all about Max, because there in my very own driveway sat a 1955 Porsche Super Speedster. My mouth went dry, and my palms began to sweat. I barely noticed that no one was sitting in the driver’s seat, and my heartbeat was so loud in my ears that I didn’t hear the knocking at the front door.

  When the knocking became pounding, I came to my senses. It didn’t matter if Max had been standing at the front door completely naked with a bottle of Maker’s Mark in his hand, I couldn’t have been more impressed by him than I was by that car in my driveway.

  I took my time getting to the door, even if it meant Max would get in his impressive car and drive away. I couldn’t believe he’d honked. When I finally did open the door, I was back to myself again. “Max, come in. Sorry, I was at the back of the house, and I didn’t hear the door.”

  I stepped back, and I was wrong. I was totally blown away by Max. He wore cargo shorts with leather topsiders, and a white, skin tight, V-neck tee. Every muscle on his torso was ripped and calling my name, and his legs rivaled Lance Armstrong’s. His tan was perfect, like from a tanning bed, only he seemed too earthy for a tanning bed,
so I guessed he ran without a shirt, or he was a cyclist. Either way, I liked the results.

  “Sorry about honking the horn, I’m not used to getting out of that car.” He looked back outside, before I closed the door.

  “Yes, I saw that car, a Super Speedster. Impressive.” But I wasn’t looking at the car.

  “You ready to go for a ride?” Max looked me up and down.

  I wasn’t ready. I wore only a bathrobe, but it was a silk robe with a paisley print, and I knew it showed my assets well. “I’ll be right back.”

  Unlike a woman, I knew what I wanted to wear. I threw on a pair of board shorts in baby blue, a lavender polo shirt and a pair of gray Chucks. I wanted to look good, but not compete with Max. He smelled clean, so I knew cologne was out of the question. I wore a fresh, no fragrance deodorant, and that was perfect. Besides, this was about the car, even if I would enjoy Max’s company along the way.

  I ran my fingers through my unruly blonde waves, and rejoined Max. “Sorry about that. Let’s go.”

  In the driveway, I said, “Where did you find this?”

  “I should tell you the truth, it’s not really for sale.” Max ran his fingers along the fender. “She’s mine.”

  I’m pretty sure my skin turned green. I had wrecked the only thing in the world that connected me to James Dean, and Max had the only other car I’d ever want that James Dean had owned. “Before James Dean bought the Spyder, he raced a Sport Speedster,” I said.

  Max got in the driver’s seat and grinned. “I know.” He patted the passenger seat. “Get in.”

  What was with this guy? Had he found my personal journal? Not that I had one. I opened the passenger door and slid into the seat. This wasn’t as comfortable as my Spyder, and I didn’t think I wanted to own one. I just wanted to sit in it, and be with a part of Dean’s history again.

  “You a James Dean fan?” I had to know.

  “Not as much as I’m a fan of the history of California racing,” he admitted, with a shy grin.

  A bit disappointed, I asked, “Ever done any racing yourself?”

  “Only vintage cars at Laguna Seca once. My job has its downsides, and schedule and traveling is one of them. But being around the most expensive cars in the world is a perk. Sometimes I’m even able to purchase one or two.” He put the Porsche in gear, and backed out of the driveway.

  Since the top was down on the Porsche, it was too loud and windy to talk much, so I didn’t even ask where we were headed. I just let him drive. I’m not stupid; I’d checked the man out. I still have my contacts. Max Daniels had an impeccable history with the FBI.

  Yes, I can hack into the FBI files, but only because I have clearance. Please, don’t ask, because I can’t tell you anyway.

  Max was a former Navy Seal, so we had that military branch in common, too. It only got better from there. He’d been with military intelligence, and had the same training I had. He moved into civilian life, if you want to call the FBI civilian, which it isn’t, and worked intelligence for them until he branched out into import export. He’d been with the auto theft operation for two years. How I happened upon him was luck. Kismet? I almost don’t care, unless, my car had something to do with it.

  I’d been over thinking it all day, and I realized there was no way it wasn’t just coincidence that we met. Right? Still over thinking it. I’d have to run this one past Nick later. Especially after Max arrived at the house in the Super Speedster

  Thirty minutes later, Max stopped the car in front of a huge red barn in the middle of a field of brown grass. He’d driven maybe five miles per hour on the gravel leading to the barn after we turned off the main road. I’d paid close attention to the drive, and he wasn’t trying to hide where we were. It was an old abandoned farm house in Carmel Valley.

  Once he put the car in park, he said, “I’m curious, how does a guy like you afford that Spyder to begin with?”

  I leaned my head back on the car seat and looked up at the sky. “You did a thorough background check on me, so I’m pretty sure you know how I got the car.”

  “But I want to hear it from you.” I could feel him staring at me, and I didn’t want to look at him.

  “I don’t discuss my history with strangers.” Or people I know, for that fact.

  “Fine, I’ll tell you something about me.” He leaned back in his seat now.

  “Like what, that you were bullied in school, because you were different, even though you were good looking, and the girls liked you? That you were the class clown, because it made you popular, but still, the guys knew something wasn’t right, so they did things to you in the locker room?” I heard him stop breathing.

  “My favorite movie is Gone with the Wind. I loved Ashley Wilkes,” he said.

  I laughed. “Mine is…”

  “Rebel Without a Cause?” He looked at me and I stopped looking at the sky to look back at him.

  “Fast Times at Ridgemont High.”

  We both laughed.

  “Come one, I want to show you something.” We got out of the car.

  We walked over to the red barn, and he picked up the huge lock on the double doors. I didn’t look away as he input the combination. I memorized it, just in case. I mean he could be a crazy person who was going to lock me in the barn, and if I could get in touch with someone, I’d need that combination.

  Once he had the lock open, he pulled the chain off the doors, and lifted the latch. When he swung the doors open, I wished I was anywhere but there.

  “Pick one,” Max said, spreading his arms wide.

  “What the hell is this?” My stomach lurched.

  I’ve done things in my life I’m not proud of, and I’ve done things I’m proud of, but can’t share. But I’ve never screwed over my employers or my country. This was looking like a huge screw job, in which I’d just been made a pawn. In front of me were about a dozen extremely rare classic cars. About half were imports, the other half were American made cars, and all were priced in the half-million dollar and up range.

  “It’s a stash house, or barn, as the case may be.” Max sounded so proud. “These belong to no one, and no one will miss them.”

  I turned to Max. “And no one can legally drive them!”

  Max stepped into the barn and laughed. “Oh, Charles, do you think I’m a complete fool? You think I’d bring a nearly complete stranger out here to this barn and show him these cars if I’d stolen or poached them?” He wiped the dust off the windshield of a Maserati. “When the cars can’t be given back to the owners for whatever reason, they go up for auction. On rare occasions, the advertising for those auctions is, well, how should I put this? The advertising is…non-existent. When that happens, agents are able to purchase seized items at a fraction of the cost they’d normally go for.”

  My muscles relaxed a bit, but not completely. “So you have papers on all of these cars?”

  Max’s smile was growing on me. “No, I don’t, but my dad does. You think I have this kind of money? Ha! I’m well paid, but not this well paid. This is my parents’ place. One of them, anyway. They have several ranches here in the valley, and they have a golf course up the way.”

  Daniels. Now the name rang a bell. “You’re Ernie Daniels’ son?”

  Max beamed proudly. “That’s me. And, no, I wasn’t bullied in school. I was class president, captain of the basketball team, and I was butt ugly. I had to grow into these looks.”

  “Sorry about that. Projecting, I guess.” Not really, I had no idea where that came from. “Well, shit, if you’re Ernie’s son, you could afford to pay full price for these cars.”

  “You don’t know my dad very well. He’d never pay full price for anything. But everything is for sale. So, if you are interested in a car that’s legit and runs, but may need some work, pick a car. But the Super Speedster is mine, and not for sale.” We walked further into the barn.

  I was a bit overwhelmed by it all and couldn’t see the cars that well in the evening light, so I walked around and to
ok in the sights, but didn’t offer up my opinions on any of them. There was a layer of dust covering the cars, and I was surprised his father hadn’t kept them covered with car covers, but the interior of the barn was much nicer than the exterior let on.

  The floors were cement, the walls had been finished, and looked to be insulated. I was about to suggest we come back sometime when the light was better, when Max flipped a switch and the barn became fully illuminated. And that’s when I saw it, a Spyder, a 1955 550 Porsche Spyder.

  “Are you joking? No way!” I ran across the barn. I didn’t care how much dust was on the car. I spread my arms and lay across the hood of that car and hugged it.

  “I thought you’d like it.” Max walked up slowly, as to not ruin my moment. “But I need to tell you something about this car.”

  There’s always something, isn’t there? I stood and wiped the dust off the front of me. “I don’t really want to know. If the car isn’t for sale, why did you even bring me here? To rip my heart out for the third time in a month? Because that would just about do it.”

  “The car is for sale. In my father’s world, everything is for sale, for a price. I’m not sure how you afforded your first one, because it was an original, but…”

  I interrupted, “You did your homework on me before you brought me here. And now that I know who your father is, you sure as hell know who my mother is, so you know exactly how I afforded my first Spyder. But, as I said, I don’t discuss my history, so if this is what it’s all about, you can just drive me back to Salinas.” I pulled my phone from my pocket. “Or I can call for a ride.”

  “Fine, I know more than I should. And I did snoop, only because you’re the only person I’ve ever met who owned a Spyder, other than the crooks I’ve been dealing with on this operation. I had to make sure you weren't a part of this import scam. When I did look you up, I was impressed. I don’t impress easily.” He looked at the ground.

  I looked at him. He had the ability to make me swoon and rage in the same breath. “Okay, let’s just move forward. How much for the car?”