Crime Tells: Cady's Cowboy

by Jory Strong

  The flush deepened and when she whispered “yes”, her answer put him over the edge. Kix sealed his lips to hers, pressing his tongue into her mouth in the same rhythm as his hips surged against her, as his cock filled and caressed her tight channel.

  He may have started out slow and easy, but the sounds she made, the way she clung to him and gave herself over to his loving, turned his gentle thrusts into a wild primitive need to mate that had him driving into her hard and fast and deep until she cried out, sending a flood of heat over the sensitive head of his penis. His lips left hers and a guttural shout was torn from him as wave after wave of icy-hot satisfaction whipped down his spine, tightening his balls before rushing through his cock in an explosion that left him panting and shaking above her.

  Later they settled on the couch to go through Danny’s appointment book. They started with the current week. Cady tapped the notation about protesting at Bay Downs on Sunday.

  “This still bothers me, especially after what Erin saw.” Her hand moved to the anti-fur protest scribbled in on Monday. “Lyric thinks that protesting at the race might have been a cover for selling the coke, but that doesn’t make sense to me. For one thing, it’s not like there was a crowd of likely buyers there. And for another, it’s too out in the open, plus why have four other people hanging around.” She thought about the pale blonde, who actually seemed passionate about the cause, and then the other three who acted like they were on a long break. “It’s like a photograph that just doesn’t come together correctly. The picture seems okay when you look at it quickly, but if you examine it closely, you see areas that are out of focus or taken from the wrong angle. A real protester would have tried to talk us out of going through the gate, but Danny didn’t even have any pamphlets to give us, even though there were a lot of pamphlets on anti-fur and anti-factory farming in his house.”

  “You’re right, it doesn’t fit. And for the record, I don’t think he was there to sell drugs. Too much work and too big an investment of time.” Kix tapped the initials BAR that appeared on Sunday, Wednesday, Friday, and Saturday. “Ring any bells?”

  Cady shook her head. “There’s also no AV penciled in for Monday. But I guess that makes sense. Erin said that based on the way Danny was acting, she didn’t think he was expecting Angel Valdez to show up at the protest.”

  Kix flipped backward. “Bay Downs and BAR were scheduled just like they were on the previous pages. Here’s AV at nine p.m. on Tuesday.”

  “That’s two days before the coke turned up in Adrienne’s horses.”

  “Sure is, little darlin’.” He flipped another page and a wave of dread washed through Cady when she saw the initials AFF. She shivered and Kix put an arm around her shoulders. “You cold?”

  She touched the initials. “The Animal Freedom Front. Have you heard of them?”

  “Sure have.”

  “Lyric dealt with them on a case she had.” Cady thought about the scar on Lyric’s side. A few inches over and the bullet would have killed her sister. “Kieran says he’d take on organized crime or wade into a gang war before he’d tangle with them—well, tangle with the cell Lyric had contact with. They scare me.”

  Kix pulled her against him. “I’m glad to hear that, darlin’. Now I won’t have to worry about you haring off to investigate that angle. A little bit of fear can go a long way toward keeping a person alive and out of trouble.”

  She shivered again, then remembered the pamphlets she’d seen in Danny’s house. “If he was in the AFF, I don’t think he was in a cell that focused on horse racing. It looked like he was more interested in factory farming and animals being killed for their fur.”

  Kix nodded and they continued paging toward the front of the appointment book, encountering the same pattern of initials over and over again along with additional notations about protests, reminders of court dates and various times for working additional shifts at the animal shelters. At the beginning of each one, the letter B appeared. “You notice that when B appears, AV doesn’t?” he asked.

  “Yeah. Too bad we don’t have more to go on. ’B’ could be anyone or anywhere.”

  Kix got to the second page of the calendar before a new set of initials showed up. Two days after Danny had attended a banquet in honor of the donors, volunteers and staff who worked at the animal shelter, he’d noted in his appointment book, 10 p.m., BCC, San Francisco.

  “I think maybe I’d better photocopy this just in case we have to turn it over to the police,” Cady said as Kix closed the appointment book.

  Kix grunted. “Not if, darlin’, when. You got a copier here?”

  “In my office.”

  “Why don’t you go and make a copy and I’ll check in with Kieran.”

  Cady grimaced. The idea of Kix and Kieran collaborating did not set her mind at ease. True, Kieran had gotten better…slightly…but he still tended to think in caveman terms. The man handles the danger. The little woman stays out of it.

  “I take it you two hit it off.”

  Kix gave her the slow cowboy grin that touched every part of Cady’s insides and stroked over her erogenous zones. “Well, darlin’, when it comes to our womenfolk, we hold pretty much identical views.”

  “That’s what I was afraid of,” Cady said as she stood and made her way to the small bedroom that she’d converted to an office.

  Kix chuckled as he watched Cady move off. Damned if she didn’t satisfy him all the way to the core. She was lively enough to keep him on his toes, but soft and gentle enough to make a man anxious to get home at night just to hold her. Kieran might have caught himself a beautiful, fiery handful when he managed to rope Lyric, but Kix didn’t envy the vice cop that wild ride.

  Kix dug out his cell phone and made the call. “Anything new?”

  “The medical examiner has got the autopsy scheduled for tomorrow, sometime before noon. Right now they’ve got the case marked as a suspicious death, maybe a suicide. No obvious struggle marks on the body. But the word is that he was finally going to do some serious time. Turns out the lady whose coat he spray painted in San Francisco was the wife of some big deal politico.”

  “When will you have the autopsy results?”

  “Don’t know. I’ll give you a call as soon as I know something. In the meantime, I’ve got a request in for a copy of his phone records.”

  “Great. Just a heads up, there’s a stray piece of evidence that needs to get corralled if it turns into a murder investigation.”

  “Son of a bitch!”

  “I take it your wife didn’t mention the appointment book that followed the ladies home.”

  “I can’t fucking believe it! She knows the rules about that!”

  Kix nearly laughed out loud. Somehow he didn’t think Cady’s little sister stayed well-acquainted with rules for long stretches at a time. It’d be a challenge, but Kix intended to make sure those habits didn’t rub off on Cady. “I’ll keep you posted,” he told Kieran before signing off. He paused long enough to make sure Cady was still in her office before dialing Adrienne and getting Valdez’s address, along with confirmation that the jockey wasn’t scheduled to race until the next night.

  It was time to pay a little visit to Angel Valdez. Maybe Valdez seeing a badge and the picture of the coke hand-off was all it would take for this whole thing to be tied up neater than a cow in a roping event.

  Cady returned a few minutes later, practically jumping through her skin with excitement. “BAR is Betty Anne Remmick! I stuck with the cover story that I’m a photographer. But I told her that you were a sheriff investigating some bad stuff at the track. I kept it vague. She’s willing to talk to us right now!”

  “Betty Anne Remmick?”

  “The protester—the really pale blonde who gave me the pamphlet and actually seemed interested in their cause. When I went to file the photocopies I saw her release form and made the connection.”

  Kix uncurled from the couch, pulling her into his arms and giving her a quick kiss. “That’s mighty
fine detecting, darlin’. Let’s head out and see if we can round up some information. “

  Chapter Eleven

  Cady felt a surge of sympathy for Betty Anne Remmick. Her pale white face was splotchy-red from a prolonged cry.

  Betty Anne stepped back from the doorway, a long sniffle sounding as she pulled mucus back up into her nasal passages. “Come on in.”

  The place was a disaster, but not as a result of Betty Anne’s bereavement. Bundles of leaflets lay everywhere. Dishes with particles of dried-on food littered just about any surface that wasn’t already claimed by paper material or dirty clothes.

  Betty pointed to a stained, grungy couch, and Cady wondered how awkward it would be to question her while sitting on Kix’s lap, then thought better of it. Sitting on his knee would only make her think about sex and God knew it was hard to think about anything else when she was around him.

  She sat on the edge of the sofa, taking up the least amount of space while getting a good view of a man’s sock and a pair of underwear on the carpet beneath the coffee table.

  Betty Anne gave another loud mucus-filled sniffle. “You calling was like the answer to a prayer. When I heard that Danny was dead, I went to the police department. They wouldn’t tell me anything at first, and then they started asking me about whether I knew that Danny sold drugs. No way! He wasn’t like that! Then they told me that he overdosed on cocaine. That’s a lie! Danny didn’t even drink sodas or go into fast-food places.”

  “Sometimes people can fool you,” Kix said.

  Betty Anne reached for a tissue and cleared her nasal passages. “Not Danny. He and I were like that.” She held up her hand, the first two fingers pressed together. We’ve been together since the beginning of the year.”

  “How’d you meet Danny?” Cady asked.

  Betty Anne sniffed again and then took a deep breath. “I met him at a rally. He was more animal rights than animal welfare, but we were attracted to each other.” She gave Cady a woman-to-woman look. “You know how it is. Sometimes you see a guy and it all just clicks.”

  Cady shifted and ending up brushing against Kix. She nodded at Betty Anne.

  “Well, it was like that for Danny and me. After the rally we went to his place and…you know. It was every bit as good as I thought it was going to be. From then on we started seeing each other every chance we got. It was like…like… I don’t know how to explain it… Totally awesome. The best.”

  “Is that why Danny was doing the Bay Downs protest?” Cady asked. “Because of you?”

  Betty Anne started fiddling with a pamphlet on the coffee table. “No. Bay Downs was his idea.”

  Cady still couldn’t get that piece of the puzzle to fit. If protesting at the track was Danny’s idea, why wasn’t he inspired like he’d been at the anti-fur rally? “My sister saw Danny at the anti-fur protest in San Francisco.”

  Betty Anne blew her nose. “I wasn’t there. But one of our friends told me what happened.” Her eyes teared up again. “I had to work, maybe if I’d gone… Danny was one of the bravest guys I’ve ever met. He was willing to take a fall for a cause if he believed in it.”

  “Did you see him after he was arrested?” Kix asked.

  Betty Anne shook her head. “Sunday was the last time I saw him. We came here after protesting at the track and hung out for the rest of the day.”

  “What got him interested in the horse races?” Kix asked and Betty Anne went back to fiddling with the pamphlet.

  “I don’t know. Danny was like that. He had lots of different animal causes that he was interested in.”

  “Will the rest of you keep protesting now that Danny’s gone?” Cady asked.

  “No. I’d like to. Once I learned about what happens to the horses, I wanted to do something. But it would just be me. The other three aren’t going to come out anymore.”

  Cady leaned forward. “How come?”

  Betty Anne went back to fiddling with the pamphlet again. This time she used her forefinger to hold it down and her thumb to spin it around and around. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Finally she sighed and asked, “This won’t go into your book, will it?”

  It took Cady a split second to remember the “A Day at the Track” book that the protestors had assumed she was working on. “What won’t go into the book?”

  “What I’m about to tell you.”

  “If you say it’s off the record, I won’t put it in.”

  Betty Anne spun the pamphlet again. “A lot of people don’t feel comfortable protesting, and there are so many causes anyway. It’s hard to get more than a few people, especially on weekends. Danny couldn’t find anyone else who wanted to do the protest, neither could I. He asked me if I knew anybody who would be willing to come out if they got paid.”

  Surprise rippled through Cady. “So Danny paid the other three protesters to be there?”

  Betty Anne nodded then added somewhat defensively, “It happens in other protests, too. We’d have looked stupid if it was just the two of us. But five made it seem like a real protest.”

  Interest vibrated off of Kix and Cady knew he was thinking the same thing that she was—follow the money. There was no way that Danny’s job at the animal shelter paid enough so that he could afford to “hire” protesters, and someone laying out their hard-earned cash wouldn’t let the hired help sit around on long breaks or be as apathetic as Danny had been about the cause. “Did you and Danny pool your money to pay for the protesters?” Cady asked.

  “No. Danny took care of it.” Betty Anne looked around her apartment. “Paying for this place and my car insurance just about takes everything that I make.”

  Kix leaned forward, a portrait of compassion. “Betty Anne, do you think Danny was selling drugs to pay for the other three protesters?”

  A sob wrenched its way out of her. “No!” She held up entwined fingers again. “We were like this. I’d know if he was doing something like that.”

  “What about the AFF? Do you think they were giving Danny money so he could hire the protestors?”

  Even before the words had finished leaving Kix’s mouth, Betty Anne was shaking her head vehemently. “No. He was not in the AFF. We talked about it and he swore he wasn’t a member.”

  Cady read between the lines and asked, “What made you think that he was a member?”

  “I didn’t think that.” Betty Anne’s face set in mulish resolve and Cady could see that they weren’t going to get her to admit either what she knew or what she suspected about Danny’s involvement in the AFF. It didn’t matter though. If the AFF had paid Danny, Cady figured that they’d expect their money’s worth, and they’d check to make sure they were getting it.

  “Did you ever see Danny talking with anyone who worked at the track?” Kix asked, his hand brushing across Cady’s knee as he silently requested the manila envelope containing the pictures of Angel Valdez talking with his agent and Angel receiving the box from Danny.

  “No,” Betty Anne said, her eyes drawn to the folder that was now in Kix’s hand.

  He pulled out the picture of Angel and Fats first. “What about either of these men?”

  “No.”

  “When you were with Danny, did you usually go to his house, or did you usually come here?”

  She licked her lips. “Usually here. But sometimes there.”

  Kix studied her intently for several long moments before saying. “Are you positive you haven’t seen either man?”

  “Positive.”

  His fingers slipped inside the manila envelope and even though Cady already knew what was inside, the tension he was creating was thick and uncomfortable and compelling.

  A small thrill of pride went through her. He really was good at his job.

  “Did you ever see Danny passing off index card sized boxes?”

  The mulish look reappeared, but it was tinged with nervousness and anger. “He wasn’t a drug pusher and if you think he was, then you can leave right now.” She looked at Cady accusingly. �
��You said you wanted to help!”

  Cady felt trapped, not sure whether she should jump in and play the part of “Danny’s advocate” or remain quiet so that she didn’t interfere with Kix’s rhythm.

  He sighed and slid the photo out just far enough for it to be obvious that it had been taken in a city. “Betty Anne, this photo might be alarming to you, so brace yourself,” Kix said in a compassionate law officer voice.

  “Right now the police looking into Danny’s death don’t have a copy because it seems to me that someone was trying to set your boyfriend up. Tomorrow the police are going to do an autopsy. If it turns out that Danny was murdered, then they’re going to start looking around for reasons why and the chances are, they’ll settle on him being killed because he was dealing drugs.” Kix held his hand up to stop her protest. “I’m saying that’s what the police investigating Danny’s death are going to want to settle on. It’s not necessarily the answer I’m happy with. That’s why I need your cooperation to get to the bottom of this.”

  He pulled the photo out and set it on the coffee table. “Have you ever seen any of these little boxes in Danny’s car or in his house?”

  Betty Anne teared up and pressed a wadded tissue to her nose. She shook her head. “Never.”

  “Did you ever overhear any conversations about things going on at the track?”

  The tears started to fall. “We didn’t talk all that much. I mean, not about the track. Mainly we talked about other stuff, like why people wanted to wear real fur coats and why it was so hard to get anyone to care about how their food was raised.”

  Kix pulled a pen out of his shirt pocket and wrote B, BCC, AV on the manila envelope. “Do any of these initials mean anything to you? Most likely they’re people.”

  Betty Anne’s face furrowed in concentration and her lips moved as she silently read the initials. But once again she shook her head. “No.”

  “What about Danny’s friends?” Kix prodded.

  “The only people I met were either other protesters when I went with Danny or people at the animal shelter. Sometimes I stopped by there when he was working. And I went to the banquet they held at the beginning of the year. We didn’t do much with other people—not like going to dinner or the movies or anything.”