The Drop Dead Blonde

by Bill Craig

  “And the other one?”

  “He’s the one that gave me this mouse under my eye and other assorted aches and pains.”

  “So, show me the stiff, Peeper.”

  “It’s inside, Pete. I’ll leave it to you pros, I wouldn’t want to contaminate your crime scene,” Harker told him. Gentry looked at one of the uniforms that had come in behind him.

  “Make sure that this mug hangs around. He’s got a reputation for sneaking out when us cops aren’t looking,” Gentry commanded.

  “I’m not going anywhere, Pete. I’ve probably got more questions than you do about the girl that had lived here,” Harker said.

  “Somehow, I doubt that,” Gentry replied, before disappearing into the apartment. The two uniforms were watching him like the proverbial hawks, so Harker just leaned against the wall and let them stew. He would check the thumb drive when he got back to the office. He had a good idea that it would point him towards the people that had killed Emma Cain.

  “Take this Moke downtown and sweat him,” Pete Gentry said, as he walked out of the apartment. He went on, “Take his gun for ballistics too.”

  “Always the hard-ass, eh, Pete?”

  “What can I say, Harker? I don’t fucking like you,” Gentry grinned.

  “I never would have guessed that,” Harker said, as he was spun around and cuffed. This was no big deal. When he got his call, Charlie Riggotti, his attorney would spring him. Charlie was an old family friend and he really enjoyed sticking it to the Miami Beach police just on general principals.

  Harker looked bored as he sat in the interrogation room. This bullshit was nothing new, just Pete trying to show he had a bigger dick. Harker had made Gentry look bad too many times over the years and Gentry had never forgiven him for it. AJ didn’t really care about that. This was just another day at the office as far as it went. But he wanted to get back to his office so that he could see what was on the thumb drive that had been important enough to get Emma Cain killed.

  The interrogation room with dirty white walls and a smoke-stained ceiling drinking what was left of a cup of now cold coffee. He took a sip and grimaced before putting the cup down on the table. They had, at least, taken the cuffs off and had taken his gun. He had managed to make sure that they missed the thumb drive by transferring it from his pocket to his shoe on the ride to the police station located at 1100 Washington Avenue. It made him limp a little, but he figured that was a small price to pay to keep it out of Pete Gentry’s grubby hands. Of course, Pete had hit the roof when the only thing he could get out of Harker was a request for his lawyer. AJ looked at his watch. Charlie should be arriving anytime.

  Just then the door opened, and Charlie walked in. Riggotti was tall and muscular, looking like the pro linebacker that he had once been before a knee injury took him out of the NFL and football for good. He was wearing a sliver gray Italian suit over a navy-blue shirt and silver tie. He had a thick head of curly hair and olive skin and brown eyes. He almost looked more Cuban than Italian and he was a helluva lawyer and a good friend.

  “So, what did you do to almost drive Pete Gentry into a stroke this time?” Charlie asked, as he sat down across from Harker.

  “Earlier today, a young woman was apparently coming to my house to see me and was gunned down on my sidewalk. I got her name from Manny Mendez, found where she lived at and went to check the place out to see if I could find out why she wanted to talk to me and who might have wanted to kill her to keep her from it. The door was open, and two guys were tossing the place. I stepped in to tell them to stop and one drew a gun. So, I shot him before he could shoot me, and then the other guy and I scuffled, and he clocked me a good one and ran for the stairs. I went in and called the cops,” Harker answered the question, laying it all out.

  “You know that Gentry is pissed and is making noises about pulling your license, yet again, right?”

  “That’s what I pay you for, Charlie. To make sure that doesn’t happen. You know I can’t just let this go. Not with her being killed on my doorstep.”

  “Yeah, I know that. Let me give Mendez a call and if he backs up what you said about the dead girl, I’ll get you sprung quick enough.”

  “Thanks, Charlie,” Harker told him. Riggotti stood and walked out leaving Harker alone again. Harker frowned at the door. He really wanted to know who Emma Cain was and why she had been coming to see him.

  An hour later, AJ Harker was back on the street. Charlie had come through once again. It felt good to breathe air as a free man once again. He had never liked being in the police station even back when he was a cop. There was just something about the air inside the place. It felt claustrophobic to him. Charlie drove him back to where his car was parked in front of Emma Cain’s apartment. There were still police cars present, as well as the Crime Scene Unit. Harker climbed out of Charlie’s car.

  “AJ, you need to tread very carefully on this one. Pete Gentry wants to file murder charges against you for the body you left in there. Fortunately for you, his superiors bought your story,” Charlie told him.

  “I plan on heading back across the causeway to the city, Charlie. I’ve got a couple of other angles to check out,” Harker told him, before closing the car door. Charlie shook his head and pulled away as Harker headed for his Jeep.

  The flash drive was still rubbing his foot, but he could bear the discomfort a little longer. He wondered what was on it. Did it have anything to do with why she had been coming to see him? Why she was killed? The only way to find out was to plug it into a computer and see what was on it. The best place to do that was at his office and that was where he headed.

  Tina had already left for the night but there was a thin folder sitting on his desk with a post-it note with the name Emma Cain printed on it. Harker smiled as he dropped into the Serta executive desk hair and pushed his shoes off of his feet. Harker was just leaning down to retrieve the thumb drive when the front door of his office flew open and a man holding a gun pushed in.

  Harker stayed below the level of his desk. It was one of the old metal office models and drew his gun. He hadn’t bothered engaging the safety after reloading it while riding back to his car with Charlie. The man with the gun was coming closer. Harker popped up, his gun leveled and his finger on the trigger. The intruder froze. Harker noted that he was wearing a ski-mask.

  “Did you miss me or something?” Harker asked.

  “Shit,” the man said.

  “I owe you for this mouse under my eye, pal. You even twitch, and you’ll be joining your buddy in the morgue.”

  “Aw hell, you killed him?”

  “It happens when people in masks pull guns on me.”

  “Shit.”

  “You said that already. How about you bend down and set that gun on the floor before I get nervous and pull the trigger on mine?” The masked man complied.

  “What now?” the man asked.

  “Kick the gun away from you and then take off that fucking mask,” Harker commanded. The man did what Harker ordered. He was a rather plain looking guy with long brown hair and regular features. Nobody on the street would look at him twice.

  “Toss me your wallet . . . slowly. It comes flying at me, I shoot first and apologize to your corpse afterwards.”

  The guy apparently noticed that the muzzle of Harker’s gun never wavered, not even for a second. He did as he was told. Harker caught the wallet in his left hand. He shook it open, and pulled out the driver’s license.

  “Harold Redmond. Do your buddies call you Hal?” Harker asked.

  “Yeah,” the man sighed.

  “Who sent you after me, Hal?”

  “Same guy that sent us to toss the girl’s apartment.”

  “Does he have a name?”

  “Not one that I know. He had plenty of folding green, names just weren’t that important,” Hal shook his head.

  “I believe you, Hal. Can you tell me what this guy looked like?”

  “I can do that.”

  “Then
tell me, what did he look like?”

  “He was in his early thirties, blonde hair slicked back, blue eyes that were scary. He wore a suit that was pretty goddam expensive, like he had money to throw away,” Hal replied.

  “Good to know. How about you take a seat over there in the corner. I have a buddy that will just love to meet you,” Harker grinned. He picked up the phone and dialed a number from memory.

  “What the hell, AJ? I’m busy enough without you,” Manny Mendez said, when he answered the telephone.

  “I know you are, Manny, but I have a guy in my office that has tried to kill me twice in the past four hours. I thought you might want to come by and collect him. If not, I can shoot him and dump him in the alley out back.”

  “Don’t even joke about that,” Manny said.

  “Then come and get the son of a bitch.”

  “Give me twenty minutes.”

  “See you soon,” Harker said hanging up.

  “So, do you want to tell me why you are so interested in Emma Cain and what she wanted to see me about?”

  “I can’t do that,” Hal shook his head.

  “Why not?” Harker asked.

  “My boss will kill me.”

  “You think I won’t?”

  “But that cop knows that I am here.”

  “He knows that I have an intruder under my gun. A guy that, maybe, is afraid that if he talks, his employers will kill him. That makes him desperate. Desperate enough, maybe, to attack the man holding a gun on him, resulting in his death,” Harker smiled. It was a most unpleasant sight.

  “Cervantes. That was the only name Rick knew,” Hal shook his head.

  “Raoul Cervantes?” Harker asked.

  “Yeah, that sounds like the name.”

  “What did the girl have on him?”

  “I don’t know. But whatever it was, he didn’t want it getting out.”

  “Did she work for him?”

  “I dunno, but she had found something that he didn’t want getting out.”

  “Raoul doesn’t have blond hair and blue eyes,” Harker said.

  “Maybe not, but some guys that work for him do,” Hal said, looking down at the ground.

  Ten minutes later, Manny Mendez arrived. He took Hal into custody and cuffed him. He looked at Harker.

  “You want to press charges?” he asked

  “Hell, yes,” Harker told him.

  Harker spent another couple of hours at the police station at 2200 Flagler Street. Manny couldn’t get any more out of Hal than Harker had, but at least now Harker had a starting point. Raoul Cervantes. Cervantes could wait for tomorrow. Harker grabbed a sandwich at a drive through on the way back to his office. He wanted a look at that flash drive more than ever!

  Chapter Three

  Harker ate his hamburger while his HP desktop was booting up. Once it was ready, he inserted the thumb drive into one of the USB slots and waited for it to load. He locked the door this time and had his Ruger sitting on top of the desk.

  There appeared to be a lot of data downloading to his computer. He wondered what it was. Harker had finished off his burger and fries and poured himself two fingers of bourbon into a glass. He sipped at it while he waited. Finally, it was done. There were hundreds of word documents on the thumb drive. Harker clicked on the first one, waiting for it to open.

  Raoul Cervantes was enjoying a vodka martini at the famous night club E11EVEN on 29 11th Street in the city. At night, the curtain at the end of the dayclub comes up and E11EVEN becomes a full-on Miami nightclub, complete with mostly-clothed dancers on trapezes, burlesque performances, big-name DJs, LED screens, and a stage with a pole that lowers into the ground, in case you feel like joining the dance party. The girls were well worth the cover and it allowed him to forget about his troubles for a while.

  Raoul was six feet tall with curly brown hair and brown eyes and light brown skin. His parents had escaped from Cuba to the shores of Florida before he was born. But Raoul still loved his Cuban heritage. Only in the past year had the new United States President opened up diplomatic relations with Cuba. Slowly but surely, Americans were being allowed to travel to Cuba, despite the fact that American diplomats were being subjected to sonic attacks from someone on the island. The Cubans were claiming that it was the Russians, but nobody was able to say for sure.

  He had spent a great deal of time on his current deal. He was not about to let it fall through because some lowly secretary had gotten an attack of conscience. Millions of dollars were involved. That, as far as Raoul was concerned, was serious money. Miami had many weapons manufacturers. Many, if not most, had military contracts. It was fertile ground for people like him.

  Emma Cain had been working as a temp in his office. He hadn’t realized that she was such a goody two-shoes. However, the information that she had stolen was out there. Raoul had to find it. He had to find it first if he was going to be able to cash in on it.

  Harker rubbed his eyes. Most of the files had contained long lists of numbers, but there was no key to indicate what they meant. That information had apparently died with Emma Cain. What was so important about them that someone had killed her for them? Harker copied the files to his hard drive and then locked the thumb drive in a safe located in the floor of his office under his desk. He was tired and ready to go home.

  Harker pulled out his pack of cigarettes and shook one free, lighting it with his battered Zippo lighter. He stood, holstered his pistol and pulled on his jacket. He unlocked the door and stepped out into the empty hallway and relocked the door before heading for the elevator.

  It was dark out when he left the building and headed for where his Jeep was parked in the lot. There was one other car there. Harker glanced up at the building, but there were no lights showing in any of the windows. Something wasn’t right. Being aware of his surroundings and alert to anything unusual had kept him alive for a long time, and situational awareness wasn’t failing him now.

  Harker drew his gun as he approached his Jeep and the car parked next to it. He kept his Ruger down by his leg out of sight. The car was a bronze colored Chevy Lumia. It could easily pass for an unmarked cop car, but AJ had a strong feeling that it wasn’t. Just then, the door opened, and a dark-haired woman stepped out.

  “What’s a girl gotta do to catch you, AJ?” she asked with a smiled. Harker relaxed.

  “Lisa, you should know better than to pull a stunt like this. I might have shot you,” Harker told her, stuffing the Ruger back into its holster. Lisa Castela was an attractive brunette in her late thirties with dark brown hair and blue eyes. She was also a reporter for the Miami Herald, Miami’s premier newspaper.

  “Why didn’t you call after finding the dead girl on your doorstep? I had to find out about it when I checked at the PD this evening,” Lisa asked.

  “For Christ’s sake, kid, I had other things on my mind,” Harker flipped away his cigarette.

  “Want to go get a drink and talk about it?” Lisa asked.

  “Are you trying to ply me with liquor and take advantage of me?” Harker smiled at her.

  “Why not go with what works? I’ll follow you home,” Lisa said, sitting back into her car. Harker shook his head as he unlocked the Jeep and fired the engine. He backed out of his parking space and saw Lisa start after him in her own vehicle.

  A light rain had started to fall as they drove to Coconut Grove and pulled into his driveway. It was wide enough to hold both vehicles. There was still yellow crime scene tape strung across his sidewalk, but everybody was long gone. He heard Lisa whistle as she spotted the large blood stain on the sidewalk.

  “Was it bad?” she asked.

  “Yes,” he replied, not saying anything more as he unlocked the door. He hoped that the rain would wash away the blood, so it wouldn’t stay there as a permanent reminder of what had happened.

  After they were inside, thunder rumbled from a storm that had swept over the Everglades and descended onto the city. Harker took out his gun and put it on the co
ffee table and went and poured them both two fingers of bourbon over ice and carried it back to the table. He handed Lisa her drink before sitting down on the couch beside her. He took a sip, enjoying the taste.

  “Do you feel like talking?” Lisa asked.

  “Off the record?” Harker asked, looking into her eyes.

  “Of course, AJ. I’m not a ghoul,” she said, reproachfully.

  “I had just stopped by to pick up a file I had left at home when I saw her lying out there on the walk. She was young, a pretty girl when she was alive. Except now she wasn’t. It was such a goddam waste, Lisa.” He took a larger drink, reveling in the burn as it slid down his throat.

  “Death always is, Love. It diminishes us all in some fashion or another. Did you know her?”

  “No, and somehow, that made it feel even worse. She was a complete stranger who died because she was coming to see me. I don’t even know what for.”

  “Come here,” Lisa told him, putting her glass down and then pulling him close to her breasts, just holding him. Harker didn’t resist, instead he laid his head against her, absorbing her warmth, drawing comfort from her presence. Before long, he was asleep.

  Lisa eased him down on the couch and took off his shoes and put his feet up on the couch as well. She wrote him a short note and let herself out, locking the door behind her. Behind, Harker slept soundly.

  When Harker woke up the next morning, he felt refreshed, though surprised to realize he had slept on his couch instead of in his bed. He spotted a note on the table and paused to read it, making a mental memo to send Lisa some flowers to make up for passing out on her the night before. He went to the kitchen and heated up a microwave breakfast bowl, then showered and shaved. Once dressed, he headed for the office. Tina was already at the reception desk out front as Harker breezed in with a cup of coffee and a lit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. She looked good in a coral dress and matching shoes that accented her brown skin. Her dark loosely curled hair smelled of jasmine shampoo, the scent of which lingered about her, mixing with White Diamonds perfume.