Alley Katz (Dev Haskell - Private Investigator Book 27)

by Mike Faricy

  Before you go any farther, if you haven’t already subscribed to my reader list, I’d like to offer you two FREE Dev Haskell tales.

  Novella #1: Twinkle Toes is the fast-paced search for an exotic dancer Dev knew in high school as his pink-haired prom date, ‘Twink.’ Twink hasn’t been seen since she went to a photoshoot for a sleazy car dealership, and Dev sets out to find her.

  Novella #2: Dollhouse When Dev’s very close friend Sallie decides to conduct an undercover investigation of the Dollhouse, Dev pitches an uncharacteristic hissy-fit. Sallie’s a big girl, but Dev could be right about this one. The Dollhouse is an adult entertainment establishment with connections to local mob boss Tubby Gustafson.

  Plus a Bonus Excerpt!

  · Russian Roulette – In the FIRST Dev Haskell novel, Dev finds himself smack in the middle of a human trafficking ring, a Russian mobster, the local police, Homeland Security, and an FBI task force.

  Just click on the link below, send me your email address, and I’ll get these to you right away.

  http://www.mikefaricybooks.com/free-gift/

  Alley Katz

  Mike Faricy

  Published by Credit River Publishing 2020

  Copyright Mike Faricy 2020

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior and express permission of the copyright owner.

  All characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  ASIN # B08P7ZBHRX

  Acknowledgments

  I would like to thank the following people for their help and support:

  Thanks to Lana, Barbara, Roy, and Julie for their creative talent and not slitting their wrists or jumping off a bridge when dealing with my Neanderthal technical capabilities.

  Last, I would like to thank family and friends for their encouragement and unqualified support. Special thanks to Maggie, Jed, Pat, Schatz, Pat, Emily, and Av for not rolling their eyes, at least when I was there, and most of all, to my wife Teresa, whose belief, support, and inspiration has, from day one, never waned.

  Alley Katz

  Mike Faricy

  Prologue

  For once, Taylor Cummings woke to the smell of something delicious. At first, he thought it might be the restaurant across the alley. He looked at his watch, just after five in the morning, way too early for them to be cooking. He pulled off the jacket he used as a blanket, rolled off the mattress on the floor, and stood. He hadn’t eaten since lunch at school yesterday, and his stomach growled. Whatever he smelled was definitely coming from the other room.

  He tucked his shirt into his jeans, tied his shoes, and tiptoed out of the room. The scent grew stronger as he moved down the short hall toward the light. He peeked around the corner and focused on his uncle Eli stirring a pot on the hot plate. His stomach growled again at the scent of whatever was in the pan.

  Without turning around, his uncle said, “Sit your butt down, buddy, and I’ll dish you up a bowl of your grandma’s secret chili recipe. It’ll be ready in four minutes. What would you like to drink?”

  “What do we have?”

  “I’m not sure. Give a look in the refrigerator.”

  “The refrigerator’s empty.”

  “Well then, I guess we’ll just have water. I guess you could add a couple of ice cubes and make it ice water. Your choice.”

  Taylor took the glass and the coffee mug from the cabinet and turned the water on. There were two empty chili cans in the sink, and he filled them under the faucet. He let the water run for a good long minute until it looked clear enough to drink before filling the glass and mug. He placed them on the table, actually a section of sheetrock resting on a pair of sawhorses, and sat down on the lawn chair.

  “Where have you been, Eli?”

  “Working. Been coming up with a formula to—”

  Taylor shook his head. “You mean you’ve been gambling again and lost whatever you had. Where’d you steal that stuff you’re cooking?”

  “Now, why are you starting out so negative? I told you this is your grandmother’s recipe. I been cooking this for a couple of hours.”

  “Eli, I saw the cans in the sink.”

  “Yeah, well, that company heard about your grandma’s recipe, and they stole it from her. They’ve been making all sorts of money off it. I just figured the least they could do was give me a couple of cans. Now here, this is just about ready to—”

  The door suddenly burst open and a very large man with a shaved head and a tattooed neck burst into the room. “Eli Cummings, it’s time for you to pay up,” he shouted as he stormed past Taylor.

  Taylor sat glued to his chair, too frightened to move.

  “Now calm down and hold on a second, Lyle. I got your payment right here. Let me just turn this off,” Eli said. He suddenly grabbed the pan and tossed the boiling contents into Lyle’s face.

  “Ahhh-ahh,” Lyle screamed and staggered backward a step or two. Eli wound up and hit him on the forehead with the pan, sending him backward. He crashed through the sheetrock table and landed on the floor.

  Taylor sat wide-eyed as Lyle groaned and slowly moved his head from side to side. Eli bent down and pulled a wallet out of the man’s pocket along with a set of car keys. “Time to go, Taylor, now!” he said, as he pulled a twenty-dollar bill from the wallet and handed it to Taylor. Taylor ran back to the bedroom, grabbed his jacket, and hurried back to the kitchen.

  Eli was gone, and Lyle was attempting to sit up. Taylor decided it might be a good idea to leave. He hurried out the door just as Eli backed a shiny red car with two white racing stripes out of the driveway and sped down the street.

  Chapter 1

  I was behind the wheel, shouting obscenities at the Mercedes in front of me because they hadn’t turned on their left-hand blinker until after the light changed. I couldn’t drive around them due to the bus that had just pulled to the corner. I needed the car to pull four feet into the intersection, but apparently, that wasn’t about to happen. My curse words and shouting didn’t seem to have any effect, but then with my windows rolled up, they couldn’t really hear me. A half-dozen cars, an ice cream truck, and some college kid on a motorized scooter drifted past in the oncoming lane, and still, the Mercedes didn’t move.

  I leaned on my horn, as did two of the cars behind me. The traffic light changed to yellow, the Mercedes finally moved, and I accelerated through the intersection. It was raining, and it took a moment to get any traction. Some jerk waiting on the cross street honked at me.

  I was hurrying to the grocery store to buy cut flowers for Gladys. She was cooking dinner tonight, and if I was the least bit late, it would be another night of one-word answers. I figured the flowers would set the mood for an enjoyable dinner and, with any luck, breakfast.

  I sped up Grand Avenue just in time to wait for the traffic light on Lexington. At least there was a left turn lane at this intersection, not that it really mattered. The light was exceptionally long, and I was beginning to think it was broken when it finally turned green. I accelerated up the hill past the entrance to the grocery store parking lot and took a right at the corner. Experience had taught me parking in the overflow lot was actually the quickest way to park and run into the store.

  I passed the rear entrance into the lot and pulled into the overflow lot, screeching as I turned and sped into the lot. A red SUV, paying no attention, suddenly backed out of a parking place. I slammed on the brakes and leaned on the
horn, but with the wet pavement, I slammed my Crown Victoria Police Interceptor into the rear of the SUV.

  I sat behind the wheel for a long moment looking at the damage to the SUV, thinking, ‘Oh God.’ I got out of my car and hurried over to the driver’s door. The window lowered as I approached. A woman with trimmed gray hair and glasses turned toward me. She did not look happy.

  “Are you all right, ma’am?”

  She seemed to study me for a minute before she answered, “Yes, but what exactly do you think you were doing?”

  “What was I doing? I was going to park my car in the parking lot until you backed into me.”

  “First of all, you were driving at a rather high rate of speed. Was that you I heard screeching around the corner? Secondly, you were traveling in the wrong direction.”

  “Wrong direction?”

  “You entered through the exit.”

  “Exit?”

  She pushed her door open, forcing me to jump back as she climbed out of her car and hurried to the rear. “Oh dear, will you look at this, a broken taillight, my bumper is dented, and that rear quarter panel is going to need replacing. All because you entered through an exit.”

  “What do you mean an exit? This is the way I always go when—”

  She stormed back toward my entrance to the overflow lot, stood in front of the sign, frowned, and signaled me with her index finger. “Would you mind stepping over here, please?”

  As I headed in her direction, I said, “Look, lady you backed into me and—”

  “I presume you can read,” she said, pointing to the sign.

  I stepped in front of the sign, ready to protest. Unfortunately, it read,

  EXIT ONLY!

  DO NOT ENTER

  “So, now what’s your excuse?”

  That last comment prompted a flashback, and for a brief moment, I was back in the hallway outside my high school English class getting yet another lecture from Ms. Wright, my teacher.

  She must have recognized the blank look on my face because she suddenly said, “Wait just a minute. Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

  “I, I’m sure we’ve never met. I didn’t think I did anything wrong, and if you hadn’t backed into me, I—”

  “Oh. My. God. You’re not Haskell, are you? Devlin Haskell? The young man I had senior year? The student who was more interested in the girls in the classroom than what we were discussing in class? I believe I gave you a ‘D’ just so I wouldn’t have to deal with you that final semester. Devlin Haskell?”

  “Oh, hello, Ms. Wright.”

  She glanced at my Crown Vic. “Oh dear Lord, don’t tell me you’re a police officer now.”

  “Actually, no, ma’am, I purchased that car at a police auction.”

  “What on earth are you up to? I’ve wondered about you for years. You were so… Well, probably best we don’t go there. How have you been?”

  “Pretty well, thank you. Well, at least up until a moment ago. I still live in the city.”

  “And you’re not a police officer?” she asked and looked over at my car again.

  “No, ma’am, I’m a private investigator. Are you still teaching?”

  She smiled and shook her head. “No, I retired a few years back. I still hear from a lot of my former students. I volunteer part-time tutoring. I see some things haven’t changed with you,” she said, glancing at the Exit Only sign.

  “Yeah, umm, sorry about that. How about if I give you my details and you contact your insurance company? Your car looks like it should be okay to drive. Here’s my card,” I said, pulling out my wallet and handing her a card.

  “Haskell Investigations. Your office is over on Randolph Avenue?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Interesting. I remember you very well, Mr. Haskell. I felt I could never quite get through to you.”

  “I’m guessing all of my teachers would say something like that. I remember there was one guy who would tell his class on the first day that he didn’t want any Dev Haskells in the class.”

  “Oh, yes, Mr. Kennedy. We had a few words about that. Now here, you stand next to this sign and let me get a picture,” she said, taking her phone out. Before I knew what was happening, she’d taken two pictures of me. She walked back to our cars and began photographing the damage from a number of different angles.

  “Let me check with my insurance company, and I’ll be in touch once I hear from them. I’ll phone them as soon as I get home. Interesting to meet you again, Devlin. Somehow, I’m not surprised it’s under these circumstances.”

  I held the driver’s door for her as she climbed into her SUV. “It was nice to see you again, Ms. Wright. Sorry about the damage.”

  She smiled and said, “Some things never seem to change, Devlin. Maybe take a moment to read the sign. As I’ve told you many times before, we all have to follow the rules. I’ll be in touch.”

  As I watched her disappear around the corner, I was thinking back to my high school days. A horn honking brought me back to the here and now. I pulled into the spot she vacated and hurried into the grocery store.

  Chapter 2

  I was more than twenty minutes late when I parked in front of Gladys’ house. I grabbed the flowers, her favorite, cut mums, and hurried up to the front door. I had to ring the doorbell three times before she finally opened the door.

  “Oh, finally, it’s about time.”

  “Yeah, sorry I’m late, but I can explain. A woman backed into me on the way to get these flowers for you,” I said and held out the bouquet of yellow mums. I figured I still might have half a chance if I splurged and got the large bouquet, twenty bucks worth of cut mums.

  “Well, come on in. I’ve had to keep the dinner warming in the oven for the last half-hour. Steak filets wrapped in bacon, except they’re probably all dried out by now,” she said as she hurried back to the kitchen.

  I opened the screen door and stepped inside, then, in an effort to catch up, I quickly slammed the front door closed, cutting off the bouquet of mums about two inches below the flowers. “Damn it,” I whispered and watched the flowers fall to the floor as I opened the door.

  “Dev, what are you doing? I’m putting our overdone dinner on the table.”

  “Coming,” I called and quickly scooped up the flower blossoms and dumped them back into the cellophane wrapper.

  “Dev? What are you doing? Get in here.”

  I hurried into the kitchen. Vintage Gladys, the table was set with her grandmother’s china. Sterling silver place settings were arranged on embroidered linen napkins. A Waterford crystal wine carafe was on the table, and Gladys’s Waterford wineglass was almost empty. The wineglass at my place hadn’t been filled.

  “Just put those flowers in the sink, and I’ll deal with them later. God, this meal is going to be an absolute disaster.”

  I couldn’t argue, and as it turned out, that was probably the best choice. After the dozen or so one-word responses to my questions, I gave up and focused on my overdone, dried out steak fillet, scorched green beans, and the crusty, overcooked scalloped potatoes.

  When Gladys set her knife and fork down signaling she had finished eating, I jumped to my feet and cleared the dishes, arranging them on the counter the way she liked before washing them by hand.

  “As long as I’m up, can I get you a dessert?” I asked.

  “Sure, Dev, what did you bring?”

  It was the most she’d said to me in the past forty minutes and served to remind me that I had offered to bring a dessert. “Actually, I was thinking of pouring you another glass of wine and just listening to whatever you have to say.”

  “Thanks, but I can pour my own wine, and I don’t really have anything else to say.”

  I glanced at the clock on the wall. If I hurried, I could probably catch my office mate, Louie Laufen, down at The Spot bar. “How about this, Gladys. I know you’re upset with me being late, and I don’t blame you.” Even though I did. “How about you just relax and take it easy aft
er doing all the work on this, this very lovely dinner? And I’ll clean up the kitchen. How does that sound?”

  “It sounds like you’re hoping to spend the night with me, and that’s not going to happen, Dev. You were a half-hour late, and because you apparently didn’t care enough to call, the dinner I spent the better part of the afternoon preparing was ruined.”

  “Gladys, I told you. A woman backed into my car, and I had to deal with that.”

  “Yeah, sure, you probably gave her your phone number. Tried to sweet-talk her.”

  “Well, for your information, she turned out to be a teacher I had back in high school. I just wanted to make sure she was okay and to get her information, so when I report the accident to my insurance company, they’ll know—”

  “You know, Dev, I think it would be best if you just leave. I don’t want you anywhere near my grandmother’s china or my crystal. If you hurry, you can probably still catch that Louie character at that dreadful bar where you two waste so much of your lives.”

  “You sure I couldn’t—”

  “Thank you for the flowers. At least you remembered how much I love mums. I’ll put them in a vase once I’ve finished cleaning up.”

  That was definitely my traveling music.

  “All right, Gladys. Thank you for dinner. Hope to talk with you later.” I bent down to give her a kiss, but at the last minute, she turned her head, and I ended up kissing her hair. Anything else I said would just add to the problem, so I headed for the front door. There were two mums lying on the floor next to the front door. I picked them up, closed the door behind me, tossed the flowers into her front garden, and hurried to my car.

  Chapter 3

  I hurried home and grabbed Morton off the couch. We went for a quick walk around the block then hopped in the car and headed down to The Spot. As we pulled up, two guys were standing outside smoking cigarettes. We nodded hello to one another, and Morton and I headed into the bar. Louie was seated on his usual stool at the end of the bar.