by Maria Pease
“How is it that no one saw anything?” I asked.
“You know, when we talked with Justin at the office, he said he thought he saw two men.”
“Did he give a description?” I asked, looking through the case file.
“No. He told us that he just got a glimpse as they drove by.”
“How about a license plate number?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Okay. Well, it looks like we’re going to have to conduct surveillance. I know it’s not your favorite thing, but we need to find out more.”
“That’s okay.”
I called Frank, updated him on where we were in the case and outlined our plan. We made our way back to my house to organize our thoughts for the morning. Driving up my street, I saw Mrs. Bennett’s car parked out front and immediately tensed up. Now what? I was tempted to turn around, but I’d avoided her for far too long and having Alana with me would be a good buffer. We walked up the driveway just as Mrs. Bennett came out from the back yard with a bucket of garden debris.
“Hi, Mrs. Bennett. What’s up?”
“Hello, Miss Parker.” She set the bucket down.
“This is my associate, Alana. We’re heading in to do some work. Is there something I can do for you?”
“My gardener has had an accident and won’t be able to work on the gardens, so I thought I’d come and do a bit of weeding.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond because Mrs. Bennett was being nice, and that was odd. “Um, well…”
“I won’t disturb you. I’d just like to finish up if you don’t mind.”
“Um, yeah. Okay.”
Alana and I moved inside. Alana put her bag down and took out her case files and laptop.
I stood by the door, perplexed.
“Sam, are you okay?”
“I’m wondering what just happened.”
“What do you mean?”
“That woman is my landlord. She’s not a nice woman. When she shows up here, it’s usually to bitch about something so when she’s nice, I’m very suspicious. She has to be up to something. I’m just not clear on what that is just yet.”
“Don’t you think you may be overreacting? She seems really sweet.”
“Oh, no! Trust me! She’s anything but sweet. She’s up to something.” I peered out the window and watched her putz around in the garden, then tilted the blinds. I powered up my laptop, set the case files out and got down to work.
“What’s our plan?” Alana asked.
“First, we need to check out all of the dog owners and see who we’re dealing with. I’ll do backgrounds on them if you can print out maps of the neighborhoods.”
“Why are we doing backgrounds on the owners?”
“We need to be sure that none of them are involved.”
“Sam, their dogs were stolen. Why would you think any of them would be involved?”
“Look, Alana, I’m not accusing any of them. I’m just doing my job and checking everything out. We need to investigate every detail and every lead. We don’t want to miss anything.”
“Okay.”
“Can you also check for any news reports for found pets?”
“Sure.”
The background checks didn’t reveal anything suspicious about any of the dog owners. With that out of the way, I looked up shelters within Riverside County and called each one to see if any of the dogs had been brought in. I faxed photos of each dog and left my contact information, requesting they call me if any of them were found. I gathered all the information we’d compiled and put it in our file, handing it to Alana.
“I think we’re ready to go. Review the file tonight and we can meet here tomorrow morning at 6:00 AM. We want to be in the neighborhood when people are heading out to work. If the dognappers are planning to strike again, we don’t want to miss it.”
When I walked Alana out, I found Mrs. Bennett had moved to the front garden and was pulling weeds rather enthusiastically. I walked Alana to her car and turned to hurry back inside when Mrs. Bennett got to her feet.
“Miss Parker, may I have a moment?”
Chapter 44
Here we go. “Of course.”
“I’m going to visit my son for an extended stay and I wondered if you might be able to check on things at my house while I’m gone.”
I was speechless. “I… um… wait. What?”
“I wouldn’t normally ask, but my neighbor, who usually checks on things is very ill, and I don’t know anyone else who I can trust.”
“Mrs. Bennett, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“You wouldn’t have to do much. Just check that my plants are watered, and no flyers are left by my door. I can pay you.”
“No, you don’t need to pay me. So, you just want me to water your plants?”
“It would really help me out.”
“I guess I could do that.”
“Here’s my address and my house key. I’m leaving tomorrow morning, so if you could stop in within the next few days, that would be perfect.”
“How often do I need to water the plants?” I asked, taking the key.
“Twice a week would be fine. I just don’t want the flyers to alert burglars I’m not home.”
I swung the door closed, already regretting my decision. Grow up, Sam. How bad can it be? She won’t be there and all I need to do is water a couple of plants. I put the key on my kitchen counter and turned my thoughts to lunch.
As I finished off the pasta, I looked through my notes on Stacy Carson and was still taken aback by her criminal history. I certainly hadn’t picked up on anything other than that she was a mother, desperately worried about her son. With the information I had so far, I decided to work backward to see if I could find any connection between her, Wally Mason and Cesar Mills.
Stacy had done just under six months at a Huntsville women’s prison, so I called to see what I could find out about her stay. After jumping through some legal hoops, I was told to fill out the proper forms and, if I were authorized, I’d receive a copy of her file in seven to ten days. I printed off the forms but with one look, I knew I wasn’t going to cut it. I put them aside and then made a call to the Huntsville men’s prison where Wally and Cesar had spent time. I requested the same information for each of them, again printing off two sets. I needed the files in order to get a clear picture, but without authorization, I was simply screwed.
I’d thought about asking Jake for help but dismissed the idea. After all, he’d already thrown me off the case and as far as he knew, I’d accepted it. It was the same with Frank. I was supposed to be focused on the dog-napping case and since I wanted to keep my job, it was best if Frank thought I was doing just that. I considered asking Monique but let that idea go because if Frank got wind of it, it could be ugly for both of us, and she had enough to deal with. Then, I had an idea.
Parking the Jeep, I moved quickly across the lot, praying I could get in and out without running into Jake. Once inside the Justice Center, I headed straight to Ted’s lab and found him locking the door.
“Ted, do you have a minute?” I asked.
“I’ve got to get to a meeting. How about later this afternoon?”
“It’s pretty important. I promise it won’t take more than a minute.”
He sighed, unlocked the door, and we went inside. “What’s up?”
“Can you sign these?”
“What are they for?”
“Just some files I need to access. As a PI, I’m not authorized. If you sign them, I can fill out the rest of the information.”
Ted quickly grabbed a pen off his desk, signed all three forms, and handed them back to me. “Anything else?”
“No, thanks. I appreciate it.”
“This isn’t going to get me in trouble, I hope,” he said, locking the door.
I smiled as he disappeared down the hall, suddenly feeling a tinge of guilt. I made it out without incident, and once the forms were filled out, I scanned them and emailed th
em to the appropriate contacts. Backtracking further into Stacy Carson’s life, I found she’d attended Brookhaven Community College in Dallas and added the name, address and attendance dates to my notes. I did the same for her high school, junior high and elementary schools. Once I knew where Stacy had spent her school years, I did the same for Wally and Cesar.
As I compared the information, I discovered something very disturbing. Stacy and Wally, although a few years apart, had attended school together since elementary school and Cesar had transferred into their high school from San Antonio when he was a junior. I stared at the computer screen in disbelief.
“What the fuck?”
I needed to create a visual of the timeline, so I brought in the roll of butcher paper from my garage and grabbed my color markers. After an hour, I reviewed my notes to be sure I hadn’t missed anything. I hung it up on the wall and stepped back. Now that I’d laid it all out, I realized it was even worse than I’d first thought. I started to dial Frank, but thoughts of him telling me to back off flashed through my mind, so I hung up. I was in too deep and no one was going to take this away from me, even if it costs me my job.
Sleep didn’t come easy. I tossed and turned, reviewing everything I’d learned. I tried to unravel how this new information could be coincidental and was left with one certainty, it was no coincidence. The problem was I just didn’t understand what it was.
Eyeing my clock, I decided it was too early to get up. I tried to go back to sleep, but twenty-five minutes later, I was pouring a cup of coffee while I listened to the news on television. I got under the blanket and cradled my cup, watching news of the wildfires spreading across Los Angeles. When my phone rang, I picked it up and was surprised to hear Jake’s voice. Not knowing exactly what to say, I let him do the talking.
After some small talk, he made two requests. The first, was that I have dinner with him and the second, was to get my file on Michael Carson to him right away.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. It slipped my mind. I’ll drop it off later.” Little did he know, I had no plans to do so. “I’m not going to be able to have dinner, I’m on a new case and have a lot of work to do. Can I get a rain check?”
He agreed but made sure to insist I get him the file right away. I hung up irritated.
The day was sunny and cool, and despite the wildfires in L.A., our air was clear. By the time Alana arrived at 6:00 AM, I was ready to go. I’d had three cups of coffee and was practically jumping out of my skin. I’d also created a report to give Jake although, admittedly, it was missing a few bits and pieces of useful information. I put all my notes and files in my bag and we headed out.
Alana asked to drive. I imagine it gave her a sense of control so since this was technically her case, I could lay off a bit, knowing I was there for support and advice. Besides, all the coffee I’d consumed had made me a little punchy. Who knew what kind of trouble that could bring?
We moved up and down the streets in the Morgan Hill neighborhood noting there wasn’t much activity except for the people heading out to join the rush hour traffic that is unavoidable on the California freeways. As I scanned the streets, I spotted a man in what appeared to be a painter’s jumpsuit.
“Pull over here,” I said, grabbing my binoculars.
“What do you see?”
“It looks like we have a painter.” I handed them over so she could get a look.
“What should we do?”
“We’re going to sit tight. Let’s see where he goes.”
“Sam, that doesn’t look like the same truck.”
“That’s why we’re just going to observe.”
We watched as the painter unloaded cans of paint and rollers then carried them into a garage down the street. A blonde-haired woman walked out to greet him but after a minute, he headed back to the truck and carried in a few more items and a drop cloth.
“I think this guy is really a painter,” Alana said.
“It looks that way.”
“Should we keep driving around?”
“Yeah. Let’s keep moving.”
Alana pulled away from the curb and slowed as we passed by the painter’s truck. I took down the make and model of the truck, along with the license plate number. We were moving toward the gate when a white, windowless van pulled around the corner, passing us. We looked at each other.
“Turn around,” I said.
Alana maneuvered the car and headed back down the street. We watched as the van stopped in front of the same driveway as the other van. The painter climbed in.
I made a note of the vehicle and grabbed the binoculars to get a look at the plate number. We continued to follow the van as it pulled into the Sherwin Williams store and parked.
Alana pulled into a spot and we sat for a minute.
“I’m going in. Stay here. I’ll be back.”
Once inside, I strolled up and down the aisles. I saw two men, looking at paint brushes. I pretended to be on my phone and snapped a few photos. I moved around to the opposite aisle and attempted to listen to their conversation. A dad appeared around the corner with his two young sons, who were rambunctious, to say the least. I was surprised that as the noise rose to very annoying decibel levels, the dad didn’t seem to notice. With no other choice, I headed for the door just in time to watch the van pull away.
I jumped in and Alana stepped on the gas, almost hitting a car trying to park. Following the van, we found ourselves heading into a nearby park. The van slowed to a crawl.
“What are they doing?” Alana asked.
“I don’t know.” I scanned the field. “Shit! Look at what’s going on out there.”
“Dogs!”
“It looks like dog training.”
“They’re the dog-nappers!”
“We don’t know that yet. Remember, we can’t jump to conclusions,” I said.
When the van pulled into a parking spot facing the field, Alana eyed me. She pulled into a spot next to them and we watched. They looked like they were eating, and I figured they were just having a bite before they headed back for a day’s work, but when one of the men jumped out of the van, my instincts took over and I jumped from the car and followed. Alana was on my heels and although I wanted to tell her to stop, I was gaining on him.
The man walked up to the German Shepherd, grabbed the leash, and broke into a run.
I ran even faster, diving for his legs. I grabbed at his sneakers and he went down hard. He kicked me in the face as I tumbled to the ground.
He let go of the dog and Alana moved in and tackled him. We were all in a pile on the grass when I looked up and saw the group staring at us. The German Shepard, who’d skittered away in the commotion, came back and began licking the man’s face.
I sat up as a woman came and stood over us. “Are you out of your mind?”
“We were trying to save your dog,” Alana said, sitting up.
The dog was standing next to the man, watching. As we stood up, he growled at us. So, we dropped back to the ground.
The man said something unrecognizable and the dog sat. “What are you two doing?”
“We thought you were stealing the dog,” I said.
“This is my dog. I came to see how his class was going, not that it’s any of your business. I’m a newly married man and we’re teaching Duke to obey my wife, as well as me.”
“I’m so sorry. It looked like you were trying to steal the dog.”
“When he saw me, he broke free from my wife. I was just trying to get him back to class.”
“We’re so sorry.”
The crowd had a good laugh and once Duke was back in class, Alana and I headed to the car. We were silent for a long while, but as we turned the corner by my house, I looked at Alana and started to laugh.
She glanced at me, annoyed, which made it even funnier.
I was still laughing when I climbed out of the car. “Come on, Alana. It was funny.”
“Sam, I screwed up my first case!”
“No. It w
as just a slight miscalculation.” I was still trying hard not to laugh.
“You’re not going to tell Frank, are you?” She looked at me concerned, then started to giggle.
“No, of course not.”
Chapter 45
We’d screwed up royally, but decided to try again that afternoon, after Alana’s class. Checking my messages, I saw that Jake had called for the third time, so I knew I’d better get the report to him. I reviewed it again, stapled the pages and returned it to the folder. As an afterthought, I loosened one side of the staple so it would appear a page or two could have fallen out. I guess I wanted to cover my ass in case any missing information was discovered later.
I grabbed a quick bite to eat and headed out. I was glad Jake wasn’t in his office when I dropped off the report; things had been a bit strained between us and this case wasn’t helping. I wrote a quick note, letting him know I was heading to an appointment and would need to work late, and asked if we could have dinner another night. I slipped out unnoticed and was on my way down Winchester Road when my cell buzzed. It was Chanel.
I listened as she went on about how crazy her schedule was and there was so much on her plate. She asked me to meet her at Miramonte Winery at 7:00 PM. She said she was a member and we’d be well taken care of. I agreed to meet her and disconnected, wondering what I was getting myself into.
Arriving home, I found Alana waiting in her car. “No class?”
“We got out early.”
“Come on in,” I said, unlocking the door. “What’s your plan?”
“I thought we’d go back to Morgan Hill and look around. Maybe we’ll see something.”
“Okay. Before we go, let’s see if any new reports came in. It could give us a new lead.”
“That’s a great idea. I’ll call in and check.”
While Alana made the calls, I ran up and took inventory of what I had in my closet. I wanted to be sure to dress appropriately as a reporter but also, knowing how Chanel dressed, I didn’t want to look like a slob next to her. I had a pair of new black dress pants and a crème-colored silk blouse I thought would work nicely with the right jewelry and picked out some heels to match. With that off my mind, I headed back downstairs to hear Alana’s excited voice.