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Caffeine & Killers (A Roasted Love Cozy Mystery Book 3)

Page 12

by Cam Larson

Unfortunately, our peaceful time was ended when Daniel’s phone rang. It seemed that the station house was short one paramedic who had his own emergency at home, so Daniel was being called in.

  We headed back to our cars. He kissed me, and I regretted that our perfect time together had to end. I saw the same emotion in his eyes.

  While he drove off, I headed back home feeling relaxed and happy. I hoped it would last a while.

  # # #

  Back at home minutes later, the calls began again. I tried Daniel’s suggestion and returned the first call right away. Amazingly, it seemed to go through, but then was immediately cut off.

  No more calls came until around ten p.m., when they started once more. I turned the phone off. Thor settled on the floor next to my bed and I made sure my apartment was securely locked. I drifted off into a restful sleep.

  The next morning, I picked up my phone and turned it back on. It showed that the unknown calls had continued until around one a.m. After that, whoever it was apparently got the message that I wasn’t going to pick up and the calls stopped.

  Chapter Twenty One

  My next goal was to find out where Ricky Thomas had been taken when arrested. I didn't have to work the next day until eleven, so I called Chief Donald Hayes and he told me he'd have time to see me around nine.

  We sat across from one another in his office. His hair was newly trimmed and after he greeted me, he shifted comfortably in his chair. "I’m sure you want to talk about your homeless friend, Laila. But I can tell you there's no new information."

  "I don’t have anything new, either," I said. "What I want to ask you right now is whether anyone in your department recently arrested someone named Ricky Thomas."

  The chief didn’t ask questions. Instead, he got up and went to his file cabinet in the corner. Without a word, he came to the T files, thumbed through several of them, and turned back to me.

  "I don’t see anyone by that name in here. These are the recent ones." He called his secretary and asked if someone by that name was in her computer files, but I could tell from his expression that there was no "Ricky Thomas" listed at the precinct house. "He hasn’t been arrested," he said.

  "What about a 'Richard'?" I asked.

  Chief Hayes shook his head. "There's no one with the last name of Thomas listed as a recent arrest." He looked up at me. "What is your interest?"

  "Well – Ricky Thomas is someone I talked to about John. Homeless John. When I had more questions, I went back downtown looking for him but I didn't see him. A man on the corner told me he'd been arrested."

  "I’m sure he did tell you that, but they cover for each other down there," said the chief. "Thomas could be laying low for a while if he's having a problem with somebody – especially law enforcement. They won’t snitch on each other unless there's something in it for themselves."

  I nodded. That made sense to me. The people on the street did seem to stick together down there. "I know what you mean. Maybe he's just hiding out."

  "I take it you've gone down there more than once," said the Chief. "You can take my word for it – it's dangerous in that part of town."

  I tried to smile. "It's okay. I've got pepper spray with me. And Thor."

  "Thor?"

  "My Doberman."

  "I see."

  Chief Hayes leaned back in his chair. He studied me, and I got the feeling he was deciding whether to chew me out or just tell me to stop interfering in police business.

  "Laila, I know you aren’t convinced that Homeless John died by his own hand. But I can tell you that we haven’t found anything that tells us any different."

  He leaned forward and clasped his hands. "He had taken sleeping pills along with the heroin. That combination can easily kill anyone."

  I opened my mouth to object, but I knew it was no use trying to convince him again that John was not on drugs. He had his evidence and that’s what counted.

  I took a different tack and told him about my visit with Steven Wilkins at Maxfield. "Steven swears the drugs were planted in his apartment. He also told me there was no scenario where he attempted to sell to an undercover agent."

  "If that’s really the case, then his lawyer should be doing something about proving his innocence," said the chief.

  I sighed. We both knew that Steven’s lawyer was court appointed. Sometimes when that happened, the client got the short end of the stick justice-wise. I hadn't thought to ask Steven about his lawyer. But even with knowing him as little as I did, I felt the same allegiance to him as I had to John.

  Unfortunately, the longer I talked to the Chief, the more I realized I was like Linda: all hearsay and no proof.

  "I won’t take up a lot of your time, but I think I should report something just as a heads-up," I said. "Besides, Daniel made me promise I would tell you."

  "At least you've got him to keep you in line with your detective work," said Chief Hayes. He smiled in a fatherly sort of way. "What else has happened?"

  After I told him about the prank calls, he furrowed his brows. "I’m sorry to tell you there isn’t much I can do on that. Do you have any idea on who it could be?"

  I shook my head. "I thought at first that it was just some kids who randomly got my cell number. You know, like they thought up numbers and landed on one that worked. But when it kept happening, I started to get a little worried."

  "I'm afraid that all I can tell you is to be careful, and let me know if it continues. And change your number if it does."

  "I'll do that." Then, before the time was up, I wanted to bring up another subject. "Do you know a woman named Linda Henson?" I asked.

  He nodded, watching me carefully.

  "She called me out of the blue and wanted to meet with me."

  I filled him in on what Linda had told me. He just shrugged. "It doesn’t sound as if she gave you any solid information about Ronald Larch. Did she say he actually admitted to having something to do with John’s death?"

  "No. She didn't. When I tried to pin her down on that, she took it all back. I’m not sure what her motive is for telling this stuff to me instead of to you." I took a deep breath and stood up. "In fact, I don’t know why I’m taking up your time with it in the first place."

  The chief smiled, and he stood up, too. "That's all right. But my best advice to you is to keep out of that downtown area. I can promise you I’ll look into Homeless John’s death a little more. You could be on to something, but matters like this get too dangerous for someone not in law enforcement."

  He rearranged a couple of papers on the desk in front of him. "If Linda tells you anything factual, I’ll have a talk with her myself. Unless there's more evidence, I just don't see Ronald Larch as someone who would break the law so easily. He has too much to lose as Calvin Carpenter’s campaign manager."

  "Well, it's true that I've got nothing concrete on Larch. He always seems real uncomfortable around me, but I guess that doesn't prove he broke the law."

  "Very true, Laila."

  I held out my right hand, and he shook it. "Chief Hayes, thanks for your time. And please let me know if Ricky Thomas’s name comes up in the arrest file."

  "All right."

  On the way out, I asked one more question. "If Thomas was arrested – where would he be?"

  "Well, the main jail for this area, including downtown, is right next door. He would be in a cell right here until a judge heard his case."

  "Okay. Thanks again."

  # # #

  Back in my car, I thought once again that I should leave all of this to the cops. Homeless people, drug addicts and murderers were their expertise, not mine.

  I wish I knew what to do. The problem was that I had nowhere to turn at this point. Ricky Thomas was in hiding, Steven in prison, John was dead and I didn’t have a background in law enforcement.

  I had no way of proving any of the things that I believed had happened.

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Though all reason told me to leave drug problems and the hom
eless to the law, I found I just couldn’t do that. The memories I had of John wouldn't let me. My gut feeling was stronger than ever that he did not die at his own hands.

  I was also convinced that Ricky Thomas knew more than he'd told me – probably a lot more. Once I found out where he was, I could get some answers. I knew I just couldn’t walk away from this. I kept seeing John smiling up at me as I gave him his coffee each morning, grateful for such a small kindness.

  When I got to work the next day, Jacob was standing at the counter looking at the headline of the morning newspaper. "Brace yourself, Laila," he said. "It looks like they've found the body of another homeless man."

  I grabbed the paper from Jacob and stared at the front page. The story was short, but to the point. The homeless man had been identified by someone on the street as Ricky Thomas, a drug dealer.

  What?! I don't get it. Was Ricky released and then died, or had he not been arrested after all. The last paragraph of the brief article explained that he was found in an alleyway in the old part of downtown West River.

  The police stated that he died of an overdose of heroin, read the next line. So, Ricky’s cause of death was the same as John’s. I'm more confused than ever.

  I placed the newspaper on the counter near the register. The first customer who came in was Walter. He picked up the paper after a cheerful greeting to me and sat at one of the smaller tables for two. Other customers followed him in soon after. It wasn’t long before I heard snippets of conversations about the death of Ricky Thomas.

  "It’s too bad how some people end up like that," said a lady sipping a cappuccino. The man who sat across from her nodded his head in agreement.

  The bell on the door jangled again, and I looked up to see Ronald Larch come in. He was alone. I watched as he glanced at the newspaper Walter had.

  "Do you want the paper?" he asked. "I’m finished with it." Larch took the paper, thanked him, and sat down in his usual spot near the window.

  Lily took Larch's order and handed it to me. I waited with my eyes on him before I turned to the espresso machine, but he only stared at the newspaper and read the article with great interest.

  I knew I was overly distracted when Lily had to nudge me. "Two more orders for your, Laila," she said. Her eyes twinkled with teasing when I apologized and then got busy.

  The door opened again and Councilman Carpenter walked in. He caught my eye and waved. I smiled back in greeting. Before he joined his campaign manager, Ronald Larch, Carpenter greeted several customers by name and entered into short conversations with them.

  When he finally got to Larch's table, Lily was there to take his order. I saw Larch push the newspaper across to Carpenter and point to the article, but I couldn't hear them over the buzz of other conversations in the coffee house.

  Carpenter shook his head. I wondered what he was thinking. I couldn’t tell if he looked disgusted or compassionate. It appeared Larch was doing most of the talking.

  # # #

  When I left work around two o'clock, I went back down to the precinct house hoping to find the Chief. I was in luck – he was in and invited me right into his office.

  "Remember when I asked you about Ricky Thomas?" I said. Donald nodded. "He wasn’t arrested at all. He's dead."

  "Yes. I know. We were notified last night that he was found dead," said the Chief. "Unfortunately, that answers your question as to where he was."

  I thought for a minute. "Then why would that man on the street tell me he'd been arrested?" I said. "Do you think maybe he was arrested, but then let out again?"

  "Well, it depends on what he was arrested for, or if there was anyone willing and able to bail him out. But again, Laila, there's no record that he was ever arrested to begin with."

  He leaned back in his chair. "The man you talked to probably just assumed that Ricky had been arrested. But two of my officers were down there last night patrolling the area. They were called to break up a fight near the grocery store, and that's when they found Ricky Thomas’ body."

  "How did he die?"

  The chief shrugged. "As far as we can tell, he overdosed. Of course, there are no autopsy or toxicology results yet. Why do you ask?"

  "Oh – I’m just wondering if the fight had anything to do with his death. I mean – was he part of the fight?"

  "From the initial reports, he didn’t appear to have been in a fight of any kind. The ruckus was in front of the store. The officers took that report and then checked the alley to make sure nobody was hiding out back there. That’s when they found Thomas's body."

  # # #

  When I left Chief Hayes's office, all I could think about was finding out what Daniel could do for me when it came to getting hold of Ricky Thomas’s autopsy report.

  Though for once, I did hesitate about asking for it. That would mean telling Daniel more about my connection with Ricky than I was ready to let on about. Daniel and I were back on a good track together right now, and I didn’t want to jeopardize that again.

  And it had been a while since I'd seen Licorice Billy. It was obvious from my earlier observations that Billy and Ricky were friends. I wondered how much he knew about Ricky’s death.

  I thought about the DEA man I'd seen twice down on Skid Row. The DEA and the Chief of Police were working together on cleaning up West River's homeless and drug problems in the old downtown area. Maybe part of their plan included the visible presence of an agent down on Skid Row.

  When I got into my car, I noticed the same DEA man pull up and park in a reserved spot outside the precinct house. Our eyes met as he got out of the car and started towards the door. We didn’t acknowledge one another. I wanted to ask him what he knew about the death of a dealer named Ricky Thomas, but I wasn't sure what I would say.

  I shook my head and decided to let it go. I didn't want to get mixed up in another death – a death that could very well be murder. Ricky Thomas had been a drug dealer, after all, and it shouldn’t surprise me if he'd overdosed – or been taken out by a rival or even a dissatisfied customer.

  Besides, I still had to figure out what had really happened to Homeless John. That alone gave me plenty to think about.

  # # #

  Right after I got home, my cell phone rang. I tensed for a moment, but then was very relieved – and happy – to see that it was Daniel. "Laila, I’m just wondering if you've had any more prank calls," he said.

  "Yeah. There were a few more the night that we ate lunch in the park. I told Chief Hayes about them, but he told me it would be virtually impossible to trace who it was."

  "That's true," he agreed. "Hey, how about if we hang out at my place tonight and I'll make something for dinner?"

  "Works for me. That'd be great." Cooking wasn’t my forte like Daniel’s. He could always put together a meal in amazing ways when we ate at his place.

  # # #

  Thor and I arrived at Daniel’s place and were greeted by the aroma of Mexican food. "I threw a salad together to go with them," he said. "I made homemade tacos. I think you’ll like them."

  "Sounds great and smells fantastic."

  Daniel handed two salads to me and I put them on the table with the platter of tacos he made. He set down two dog food bowls in the corner of the kitchen, and Benji Junior and Thor ran right over to them. All four of us settled in quite happily to enjoy our food.

  Daniel turned to me. "Have you found out anything new about what happened to Homeless John?"

  I looked at him, and felt gratified. He was trying to accommodate me by showing an interest. "No. Nothing new about John. But did you know that another homeless man was found dead?"

  Daniel nodded. "I heard. The call came in last night right as I ended my shift. I didn’t get any details, but it sounded like it happened in the bad part of downtown."

  Was now the right time to be honest with Daniel? I took a deep breath and jumped in.

  "His name was Ricky Thomas," I said. "Somebody down there identified the body when the cops found him."
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  I waited. Daniel didn’t ask how I knew this, but I felt compelled to explain. "I read it in the paper this morning."

  When our eyes met, I knew he had questions he didn’t want to ask."

  "Daniel, these tacos are so good. I wish I could learn to cook like you." I tried to change the subject back to food.

  "Glad you like them. You could do these, Laila. There's not much to them, but they're really good. I’ll put some coffee on," he said. "When we're done, we can take the dogs out for a short walk and then spend some time together."

  We walked the dogs a couple of blocks and then went back to Daniel’s to enjoy our after-dinner coffee. I started to clean up the table while he served the coffee. "Just rinse everything off and put it in the sink," he said. "I can wash dishes later."

  We sat down on the couch in the living room. I wanted to discuss Ricky Thomas with Daniel, but still hesitated.

  "I have some information you might be interested in," said Daniel. "I found out the name of the DEA agent that you’ve been wondering about."

  That got my attention. "Who is he?"

  "His name is John Collins. He's obsessed with cleaning up the downtown area and getting rid of the drug trade there. It's as though he's made that his mission in life."

  "Wow. That explains a few things." I thought about this. It certainly explained why Licorice Billy and Ricky Thomas had laughed so scornfully at me when I thought my homeless friend’s last name was Collins. He thought I meant John Collins the DEA man, when I was really talking about Homeless John.

  "I see the wheels turning in your head, Laila. What is it?"

  I realized that I was in too deep at this point. There was no alternative except to explain why the man I'd thought was "John Collins" was in reality John Wilkins – better known to us as Homeless John.

  Daniel listened intently as I talked. I saw flashes of both anger and real concern as I told him the story. I decided it was all or nothing as I plunged ahead and told him about my experiences, though I did avoid telling Daniel exactly how many times I'd been to Skid Row.

  "So – you actually met Ricky Thomas?" he asked. I nodded. To my surprise, he smiled, though it was a little wryly. "I don’t know why I try to tell you to be careful about all this, Laila. But please don’t tell me you're going to get mixed up in Ricky's death now, too. He was a drug dealer. That explains why he died of an overdose. What more do you need to know?"

 

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