The Sam Prichard Series - Books 9-12 (Sam Prichard Boxed Set 3)

by David Archer

  Sam whipped the Corvette to the curb and stopped. “Okay, listen, I just heard Marty’s voice on a video, and you aren’t him. And Tracy knows me quite well; we were engaged once, years ago, so if you’re really with her, put her on the phone—”

  The line went dead, and Sam growled in frustration. If he had needed anything to convince him Tracy really was in trouble, this ridiculous attempt to make him back off had done it. He sat there and thought for a moment, then called the Denver PD again.

  “Jerry Lemmons, please,” he said to the desk sergeant.

  “Detective Lemmons.”

  “Jerry, it’s Sam Prichard again. I know you said you don’t think there’s anything to the missing persons case, but I’m beginning to think differently. I’ve been looking into it, and someone just called me claiming to be Marty Fletcher and telling me to back off.”

  “Well?” Lemmons said. “Maybe the happy couple just wants to be left alone.”

  “Come on, Jerry,” Sam said with a growl. “I saw some of Fletcher’s videos, and the voice on the phone didn’t even sound a bit like him. He also told me Tracy wouldn’t talk to me because she didn’t know me, which tells me he doesn’t know Tracy at all. If he did, he’d know that she’s my ex-fiancé.”

  “Your ex-fiancé?” Lemmons asked. “Maybe she just never told him about you, you think of that?”

  Sam rolled his eyes. “Thank you, Jerry,” he said. “Assume Tracy ran off with this guy, and then somebody tells them that a private investigator named Sam Prichard is looking into her disappearance. Can you honestly tell me it wouldn’t cross her mind to say, oh, crap, I know who that is? If nothing else, they would use that little detail to convince me the call was legitimate.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you, Sam. We’re dead certain the two of them ran off together. Maybe they got someone else to call you, and forgot to mention that little detail. Why don’t you just let us handle this, okay? If you’re just working for the kid, you’re probably not getting paid anyway. Now, I’m sorry if I seem a little brusque, but I got a lot of work to do. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

  Sam was holding a phone that was dead. He scowled at it for a couple of seconds, then shoved it back into his pocket.

  Three lives to save, Sam thought. Sure would be nice if I had some idea who they are!

  4

  The rest of the day was the same. Sam checked more than three-dozen motels that were commonly frequented by people who might not want to be noticed, but none of the desk clerks showed any sign of recognition when he handed them photos of Tracy or Marty. He finally gave it up at five and headed for home.

  Kenzie was waiting at the door for him, the way she always was when she heard the loud pipes of the Corvette pulling into the driveway. “Daddy!”

  Sam scooped her up into his arms for a hug, and then noticed both of her grandmothers sitting on the couch. They had Kenzie’s entire assortment of Barbie dolls spread out between them, and his mother held one up and smiled. “Oh, look,” she said in a voice that was pitched two octaves higher than her own, “Kenzie’s daddy is home. Yay!”

  “Yay,” said Kim, holding up the Ken doll. “I was feeling all alone as the only boy in a house full of girls.”

  Sam couldn’t help snickering. “It’s great to be welcomed,” he said.

  Indie came out of the kitchen with a smile. “Hey, you’re home,” she said. “Any luck?”

  Sam put Kenzie down and followed his wife back into the kitchen. As soon as they were alone, he pulled her into an embrace and kissed her quickly. “Nothing good,” he said. “I did have one interesting moment, though. Some jackass called me up and claimed to be Marty Fletcher, then told me that he and Tracy were happy together and wanted me to back off. The only problem was that it wasn’t Marty’s voice, and this idiot wasn’t aware that Tracy and I ever knew each other.”

  Indy’s eyebrows shot up as she looked up at him. “Okay, that’s weird,” she said. “Did you get the number?”

  Sam shook his head. “No, the caller ID was blocked. No idea who it could have been, but it definitely set off some alarm bells for me. I called Jerry Lemmons back and told him about it, thought maybe he’d agree that it sounded odd, but he says they’re absolutely certain that Marty and Tracy are simply having an affair and have run off together.”

  Indy scrunched up her face. “Sam, that almost sounds like he knows something he’s not telling,” she said. “Can you think of any reason the police would be covering this up?”

  “None that would make any sense. Just seems odd that somebody would try to throw me off the case, you know?”

  Indy nodded. “Yeah. It makes Heather’s insistence that her mom wouldn’t run off willingly a lot more believable.”

  “It does more than that,” Sam said. “It convinces me that Tracy must actually be in some kind of danger. There is something going on behind her disappearance, and it’s something that somebody wants to keep secret. Maybe good old Marty really did stumble onto something big.”

  “So, where do you go from here? What’s the next step?” Indie asked.

  Sam shook his head as he sank into a chair at the table. “I’m not sure,” he said. “What kind of magic can you work with that throwaway phone we think is Marty’s? Isn’t there some way you can figure out where it’s at?”

  “I could if I could get into the account behind it, but it’s one of those cheap phones that just piggybacks on a major carrier. The carrier can’t give me any information about whose account it is, so that means I can’t get any of its electronic identification numbers. Without those, I can’t get a GPS ping on it.”

  “What if I call the number? Can you get anything on it if I get it on the line?”

  Indy shook her head. “That doesn’t really help. If it was actually on a major carrier, then I could identify the phone and trace its location, but the number it uses isn’t really assigned to that particular device. It’s like using a forwarding number—the carrier gives it a number to use, but then it’s bounced through a switcher for whatever company sold it. Their equipment sends the call to that phone, but it’s not sophisticated enough that I can follow it down to the device. That make sense?”

  Sam grinned at her. “No, but I’m usually in the dark when you try to explain the technical stuff. I just hold onto my faith that you know what you’re talking about and leave it at that.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes and then looked back up at her. “Still, if I can get Marty on the phone, maybe I can get him to tell me what’s going on. You got that number?”

  Indy picked up the tablet that was lying beside Sam on the table and poked at its screen for a moment. “Here it is,” she said as she handed it to him.

  Sam took his phone out of his pocket and punched the number into its dial pad. It rang three times, and then Marty’s voice answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Marty? My name is Sam Prichard, I’m an old friend of Tracy’s.”

  “You’re the private eye, right? She mentioned you once.”

  “Right, that’s right. I’ve been hired to try to locate Tracy, and I’m hoping you might be able to give me some idea where she is.”

  “Aw, crap,” Marty said. “I was hoping she told you to call and tell me it was safe to come home. No, I’m sorry, I have no idea where she could be. I haven’t heard from her in days, but the last time I talked to her she said something about asking you for help.”

  Sam’s eyes narrowed. “When was that, Marty?”

  “Would’ve been about three, maybe four days ago. She called and told me things were getting hot, and that she knew you and thought maybe you could help. She told me to stay out of sight and wait for her to call me again. I figured she must’ve given you this number, because as far as I know, she’s the only one who had it.”

  “Actually, my wife is a computer whiz and she got it out of Tracy’s phone records. Marty, are you aware that the police are claiming you and she ran off together?”

  “Yea
h, bullshit,” Marty said. “They damn well know better than that. If Tracy’s actually missing, you can bet your ass they know where she is, at least some of ’em.”

  “You think the police have something to do with her disappearance?”

  “Hell, yeah,” Marty said. “That’s what this whole thing is about, man, dirty cops! I found out something so bad they want me dead, and all Tracy was doing was trying to help me stay alive, y’know?”

  A chill ran down Sam’s spine. “Marty, what is it you know? Is it serious enough that Tracy might be in real danger?”

  “Geez, man, we’re all in danger! All I can tell you is we got some of the worst cops in the world, and you can’t trust any of them!”

  Sam thought for a moment. “Marty, I want to help you, and I want to find Tracy. Is there a place you and I can meet, to talk?”

  Marty laughed, but there was no mirth in it. “Sorry, man, but I don’t know for sure that you really are who you say you are. I’m not telling anybody where I’m at, you dig?”

  “Yeah, I can understand,” Sam said, “but I don’t know how to help you. If you got something going on about corrupt cops, I can promise you I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe and get them off your back. How about this? You pick a spot, anywhere you like, maybe someplace where you can watch from a distance and see that I really show up alone. I’ll be driving a Corvette, it’s easy to spot.”

  “No way, man, not gonna happen. I’m not meeting anybody right now. With Tracy gone, I have to figure I’m completely alone, I’m not sticking my neck out where it can get chopped off.”

  The phone went dead and Sam let out a sigh of frustration. “He’s not talking, so I’m back to square one.”

  “Okay,” Indie said, “so what is square two?”

  “Square number two is where I put this whole mess on the back burner until tomorrow morning, and just spend this evening with my family.”

  * * * * *

  The following morning saw Sam checking more motels. He was getting discouraged after visiting so many, but since he had no other leads he kept going.

  Sam pulled in at the Sunset Motel at a few minutes after ten and walked into its office. A young man of what looked to Sam to be Middle Eastern appearance smiled and spoke to him with no sign of an accent.

  “Hi, there, need a room?”

  Sam grinned and held out his ID. “No, thank you,” he said. “My name is Sam Prichard, and I’m a private investigator.”

  “Pleased to meet you, Sir,” the clerk said, holding out a hand to shake. “I’m Pete Patel.”

  Sam grinned and shook his hand. “Same here, Pete. Is that your real name?”

  Pete put on a mock look of surprise. “Why, Sir, are you implying I don’t look American enough to be named Pete?” He broke into a big smile and chuckled. “Actually, it really is my name. My parents came over here from India shortly before I was born, and I was named Peter after the man who sponsored them for citizenship.”

  Sam bowed his head slightly as an apology for his unintended stereotyping. “Pete, I’m looking for a woman who’s gone missing, and I’ve heard she might have been seen at a motel around here last week.” He took out his phone and called up the pictures Indie had sent him. He chose the photo of Tracy first, and held the phone out for the clerk to see. “Have you seen this woman coming and going?”

  Pete looked at the photo for only a second, then smiled. “Yeah, that’s her,” he said. “She rented a room for her brother, or at least that’s what she said. He had a green van that he kept hidden in the alley behind the motel.” The smile became a conspiratorial grin. “I thought it was kind of strange the way she kept showing up and sneaking food into the room, and then there’s the fact that her so-called brother never even stepped outside. The police have already been here asking about them, they even took our security tapes.”

  Sam nodded. “That figures. And you were right to think it was odd, since that wasn’t her brother. I need to ask, though, is there anything else you might have noticed, something you might not have thought to tell the police? I’m trying to find this woman for her daughter. The police seem to think these two ran off together, but her daughter doesn’t believe that.”

  The clerk looked into Sam’s eyes for a moment, then leaned a little closer and lowered his voice. “There was one thing,” he said. “There was this one guy who came with her the day before the brother left. I was down in the room next door at the time, had to replace the ball valve in the toilet, and it sounded like they were all arguing. That made me curious, so I peeked out the window as she and the other man were leaving, and it looked to me like she was kinda scared of him. I didn’t get a good look at the guy until they were getting into his car, but then I knew I’d seen him before so I started trying to remember where. It didn’t hit me until later, but he’s a cop.” He turned and picked up a newspaper that was lying on the desk behind the counter and spun it around so Sam could see a photograph. The picture was attached to a very small story reporting Tracy’s disappearance, and repeating the police theory that she had simply run away with a boyfriend. “That’s the guy, right there.”

  Sam’s eyebrows rose. The picture was a photograph of Detective Jerry Lemmons.

  “This is the man who came with the woman and argued with the guy in the room?”

  Pete nodded gravely. “That’s him,” he said. “Paper says he’s the detective in charge of the case, and I thought that was a little weird. He didn’t come by here himself to talk to me, he sent a couple of regular cops in uniform.”

  Sam looked into the young man’s eyes for several seconds. “And you didn’t mention to those officers that you had seen this detective with her?”

  “No, Sir,” Pete said. “When they started asking questions like nobody knew anything about it, I got the funny feeling it might not be a good idea to admit I had seen that detective. He seemed pretty ticked off when he was here with that lady, and I didn’t think I wanted him to get mad at me, if you know what I mean.”

  Sam nodded slowly. “I think that might’ve been a pretty smart decision on your part. I appreciate you telling me, and I promise you it’ll stay between us.”

  Sam left the motel with more questions than he’d had when he arrived. Jerry Lemmons, a detective he’d known on the force for several years, could possibly be involved in Marty and Tracy’s disappearance. Sam thought back to Heather’s statement, saying that her mom had told her to come to Sam and tell him the police were involved and should not be trusted.

  The problem was that Sam Prichard hated the thought of a crooked cop and would prefer to never have to deal with such a case, but he was also far too honest and stubborn to back down once it was dropped into his lap. If he became convinced Jerry Lemmons really was somehow involved in something criminal, Sam would do everything in his power to prove it and bring him to justice.

  5

  It was almost noon by the time he got back to his house and told Indie what he’d learned.

  “How well do you know Lemmons?” Indie asked. “Would you have expected him to be involved in anything illegal?”

  “We worked together in Vice a few times,” Sam said, “but I can’t say we were ever close. Would I expect this of him? I don’t think I would expect it of any cop, but I’m also a realist and I know that it happens.”

  “I just wonder why Tracy would have taken him to see Marty,” Indie said. “And then, of course, you have to wonder what the argument was about.”

  “And why Pete thought she looked scared when they were leaving. I can simply call him up and ask him, but somehow I suspect he’ll deny it, and then I’ve got the problem of betraying Pete’s confidence. I promised I wouldn’t let on that he told me about it.”

  “Right. So how do you plan to find out?”

  Sam grinned. “Actually, I’m going to call on our old pal Herman and ask him to start digging into Jerry a little bit. Think he might be able to do that?”

  Indie gave him a grin of her own
. “I think I can talk him into it,” she said. “But before we get to that, I’ve got some good news for you. Remember I told you I wouldn’t be able to track down that phone Marty is using? Well, after you left this morning I started Herman scanning through every cheap phone provider, looking for that number.”

  “And he found something?” Sam asked, his eyebrows high.

  “Yep. He got me the electronic serial number of the phone, which allowed me to ping its GPS location. That phone is sitting in Buckley Park in Montrose, over on the western side of the state.”

  “Montrose,” Sam mused. “I know where that is. I’ll let you dig into Jerry, and I’ll head out to Montrose after lunch. If Marty is there, I intend to find him and get him to tell me exactly what’s going on, and maybe that will help me figure out what happened to Tracy.” He rubbed his eyes for a second. “If everything goes well, we might be able to clear this up pretty quick.”

  Indie looked at him for a moment. “Okay,” she said. “As soon as we eat, I’ll go pack your overnight bag. If you’re gonna go that far, you might need to stay overnight somewhere.”

  Sam nodded. “Yeah, that thought occurred to me, too. You can check once in a while and see if that phone is moving, so maybe I can get right to it as soon as I get there. With any luck, I’ll find Marty early enough that I can come back home tonight, but you never know.”

  Indie heated up a frozen pizza, and Sam joined his family at the table. Indie mentioned to Kenzie that Sam might need to be gone overnight, but the little girl was too excited to make a fuss. Both of her grandmothers were coming back over to play with her that afternoon, and she was busy planning Barbie’s next adventure.

  When lunch was finished, Indie shoved their plates into the dishwasher and Sam followed her to the bedroom. It only took a few minutes for her to put together his overnight bag, and then he took advantage of the bedroom door to get a few minutes of privacy with his wife. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, and gave her a kiss that lasted more than a minute.