I thought for a few seconds. “Could be,” I agreed. “But if that were the case, then why would they have let us pass in the parking lot after I showed them the pictures of Gina and said we were looking for her? I took a bit of a gamble in assuming they were interested in protecting Eduardo Salazar when I told them we were focused on Gina. As far as he understood, we considered Eduardo and the mystery woman here as nothing more than information sources to help us find Gina. This seemed to defuse him.”
“Confuse him, more likely,” Toni said.
“Actually,” I said, “he seemed almost disappointed, like he’d been looking forward to messing us up. If he were there because of Gina, I doubt this little ruse would have worked. I think the quick explanation caught him totally by surprise.”
Dwayne stared at the ceiling and thought about that for ten seconds or so. Then he looked back at us. “I think you’re probably right,” he said. “Unless there’s some reason to think these guys are connected with the mystery girl here, then the only other reason they’d have been annoyed at you specifically had to have been if you struck a raw nerve with them when they thought you were asking about Eduardo Salazar. Even if you never did actually mention his name. The bartender must have jumped to the conclusion that that’s what you were doing without you actually ever having mentioned him. They moved quick.”
“They’re nervous,” Gus said. “Like a virgin in prison.”
“They must be,” I said. “So who is Eduardo Salazar? You find out anything?” I asked Dwayne.
“Yeah,” he said, opening a file. “After you called last night, I started making some inquiries. Eduardo Enrique Salazar, aka Eddie, aka Eddie Stiletto, has been in our system here since last year.” Dwayne turned a mug shot right-side up for us. The man staring back had a Manson-like glare in his eyes that made it clear he’d just as soon cut you up as look at you. He had long, thick, dark hair and long sideburns. He looked to be wearing the same black shirt he wore in the photo with Gina. “Eddie was busted last October for assault with a deadly weapon. He cut up his old lady,” he turned over the next photo of a young Mexican woman who had two vicious knife slashes on her cheeks, one on each side. “Apparently, the good Mr. Salazar was miffed because she smiled at another guy.”
“Nice guy,” I said. “Let me guess. He’s here on one of those high-tech worker visas.”
“Yeah, right,” Dwayne laughed. “Actually, Eddie’s a Mexican national from Baja, here illegally now on an expired work permit. No current known place of employment. No job, but he posted one hundred thousand dollars bail last year and then—surprise—all the witnesses disappeared. We ultimately had to drop charges.”
“Not only is he a sick bastard,” Toni said, staring at the photo of the mutilated young woman, “He’s a rich sick bastard.”
“Looks that way,” Dwayne said. “And he has a volcanic-sized temper. And, apparently, it doesn’t take much to set him off.”
“Yeah, just ask her,” Toni said, nodding at the photo of the girlfriend.
“Got a last known address?” I asked.
“We do, but it’s almost a year old and certainly obsolete,” Dwayne answered.
“Probably, but we’ll still check it out,” Toni said. “We’ll take everything you’ve got. A neighbor might remember something. It’s better than nothing.”
It was quiet for a few moments, then I said, “How the hell would someone like Gina get mixed up with an idiot like this?”
“Boggles the mind,” Gus said. “But I’ve seen plenty of instances where well-bred rich girls are attracted to outlaws.”
I racked my brain to try and answer my own question, to no avail. I couldn’t agree. The Gina I thought I knew would not even give this lowlife the time of day. I was stumped.
“Why don’t we just find him and ask him?” Toni said.
“Good idea. Might be you find him, you find Gina,” Dwayne said.
“That’s right,” Gus said. “Or maybe you can ask mystery lady here.” He pointed to the photo. “If you can’t find Eddie, maybe she knows what’s going on.”
“Could be,” I said, rising to leave. “We’ll start asking.”
“Be careful,” Gus said. “Sounds like you’re starting to stir up a shitstorm. Make sure you don’t get splashed.”
~~~~
I was lost in thought as Toni and I drove back to our office. I kept hearing the words of my investigation instructor at Fort Leonard Woods in Missouri during my CID basic training over and over again: “Never jump to a conclusion. Never fixate on an unproven solution. Never fill in the blanks. Let the facts speak totally for themselves.” The human tendency is to grab on to what appears to be a logical solution. Then, invariably, the mind focuses on that solution to the exclusion of all others. A person will start to rationalize every bit of evidence to fit the preconceived notion. When you fall victim to this sort of tunnel vision, the real solution can walk right past you completely unnoticed.
Because of this, I reminded myself that Eduardo Salazar, nasty and suspicious as he might be, was just one of many possible scenarios. We needed to keep it in that light. He might have something to do with Gina’s disappearance. He might not. Could be that Eddie Salazar was nothing more than a play toy for Gina. Just because Eddie Salazar’s a sadistic shithead doesn’t mean he had anything to do with Gina. Coincidence? Maybe. Take a further look? You bet. Stop looking elsewhere? No way.
~~~~
“How many?” I asked, incredulously.
“More than seven hundred,” Doc replied. “Seven hundred twenty-eight to be exact.”
I had a rule that when we were working a case, we tried to meet as a team every morning, first thing. We called it our daily briefing meeting. After we left Dwayne’s office, Toni and I had hurried back to the Logan PI office for our meeting. I’d just asked Doc how many registered sex offenders were on the list in Seattle.
“Wow,” I said. “That’s incredible.”
“Yeah, must be something in the water up here,” Kenny said.
“No shit,” Doc agreed. “How am I going to make sense of this, Danny?” he asked.
“You aren’t. You obviously aren’t going to be able to go through each one carefully. By the time you’re done, whatever you find will have become ancient history.”
“Agreed.”
“So you have to come up with some way to filter the list,” I continued. “All you can do is look at each record and try to make a judgment call on whether or not the pervert in question is into women of Gina’s description. Each record has some sort of report you can use, like an MO. I’m pretty sure that a sizable percentage of the people on that list won’t match our profile.”
“That’s right,” Richard said. “Who’s that lady teacher who got busted for having sex with a student a few years ago? The one who ended up having the kid’s baby?”
“Mary Kay Letourneau,” Toni answered.
“Right,” Richard continued. “She’s probably on that list.”
“Good point,” I added. “I’m sure she’s not a suspect in our case.”
“Okay,” Doc said. “I’ll try and whittle it down.”
“Good. Now, let’s take a minute and talk big-picture strategy,” I said.
“We’ve decided that of the three possibilities—predator disappearance, kidnapping, and voluntary disappearance—that because there’s no ransom demand, we’re going to ignore kidnapping and focus on the other two, right?”
Everyone nodded their heads.
“And we decided that if we’re talking predator disappearance, the clock is running. In fact, odds are that Gina might already be dead, right?”
Again, everyone nodded.
“Yet so far, all the angles we’re working focus on the predator disappearance possibility. One: Eduardo Salazar. Two: registered sex offender. Three: serial killer. We haven’t focused at all on the voluntary disappearance possibility.”
“For good reason,” Toni said. “We knew when we got into thi
s that if Gina got abducted by a predator, and if she’s not already dead, her days are surely numbered. We’d need to be lucky to find her in time. You’re right—the clock’s running.”
“That’s right,” Richard said. “The vast majority of women abducted by predators are killed within seventy-two hours or so—three days. In this case, it’s already been almost a week. If she’s been abducted by a predator and she’s still alive, it would almost have to be some sort of sex-slave type of scenario. You know, the kind where the pervert locks her in a basement.”
I said, “You guys think we should just ignore the voluntary disappearance possibility for a while then?”
“I think we have to, boss,” Toni said. “There’s only the five of us.” She looked at Kenny. “And that’s counting shithead here as a whole person.” Kenny looked indignant. Doc and Richard laughed. “I think we have to focus our efforts on the most time-sensitive possibility first. If Gina’s been abducted by a predator, and we can find her and rescue her in time, we need to do this.” She paused for a moment, and then continued. “That said, I’ve told you before what I think—that she’s gone underground on purpose and has orchestrated the whole thing herself.”
“But,” I interrupted, “you’re not willing to risk her life on that.”
“No, I’m not,” she said. “It’s just one theory. I don’t want to fixate.”
It was quiet for a second, then Richard said, “I believe that if we can’t locate Gina in another few days, then we’re probably not going to find her alive anyway. At that point—today’s Thursday, say by next Monday—we should switch entirely to the voluntary disappearance possibility. Until then, we owe it to her to keep pounding away on the predator possibility.”
“It’s a sobering thought, but it makes logical sense to me. What do you guys think?” I asked.
Everyone agreed. We weren’t jumping to conclusions, but we were being realistic.
~~~~
The office phone in the lobby rang. Toni got up and walked out to answer it. A few seconds later, she walked back in and said, “I think you’re going to want to listen to this.” I looked at her curiously as she reached over and punched the button on the speakerphone sitting in the center of the conference room table.
“Go ahead, Mr. Salazar,” she said.
No shit. Eddie Salazar decided to cut through all the crap and just give us a call—the direct approach.
“Hello,” he said, his voice coming through strong and confident over the phone. “Is this Danny Logan?”
“I’m here,” I said. “What can I do for you?”
“Good. I got your business card. I hear you’re looking for someone—perhaps someone we both know.”
“Could be,” I said. “We’re actually looking for two people,” I said. “First, we’re looking for Gina Fiore. I believe she’s a friend of yours.”
He was quiet for a second. “I know her,” he said. “Too bad she’s gone.” He paused, as if considering his next statement. “Why you? How come the police aren’t looking for her?”
“Oh, they are,” I said. “My company and the police are working together, although my company is technically working for Gina’s family.”
“Oh,” he answered. “So you know anything? You got any leads? Maybe I can help.”
“No thanks,” I said. “I don’t think we’ll need outside help on this one.” Obviously, even if Gina were sitting right in front of me, I wouldn’t have told this scumbag. “While I have you on the phone, though, when’s the last time you saw her?”
He was silent; then he said, “Been a long time—I’m worried about her, esse. There’s lots of bad people out there. Maybe she hooked up with the wrong crowd.”
“That’s true,” I said.
“You say you’re looking for two people. Who’s the other?”
“Why, that’d be you,” I said. “We’re looking for you. You know, if you really want to help, why don’t we get together, talk things over?”
He laughed. “Soon enough, holmes,” he said.
“Yeah, sure,” I said. “By the way, I think we bumped into a few of your friends last night. When we left, they seemed a little confused. How are they doing?”
He laughed again. “My friends are fine.” He was quiet for a second, then said, “They tell me they’re eager to see you again.”
“Me, too. Anytime. Sounds like fun,” I laughed. “I’ll tell you, maybe after we return Gina to her family, we can all have a celebration party. I think our friends at the police department have even offered to host it. What do you think?”
He was silent for a second. Then he said, “I was thinking more of a private party.”
“Oh, that’s good. A private party. That’s okay, too. Like I said, anytime.”
“Maybe soon,” he said. “Maybe sooner than you think.” He paused for a second, then said, “By the way, I’d like to meet your associate. I hear she’s one fine mamacita. Watch for us, holmes.” He hung up before I could answer.
~~~~
At first, no one said anything. Kenny broke the ice. “It was blocked, boss,” he said, referring to the caller ID number. “Most likely, it was something like a prepaid cell phone anyway.”
I nodded. “That was an unusual phone call,” I said.
“Sure was,” Toni said. “Scary, too.”
“Bullshit,” I said.
“What’s with all the ‘homes’ talk?” Kenny asked.
“‘Holmes,’ not ‘homes,’” Doc said. “Consider it a term of endearment.”
Kenny looked confused.
“What was he really saying?” Richard asked. “Was he saying he doesn’t know where Gina is and he’s fishing to find out what we know? Or was he saying he does know where she is and he’s trying to warn us away?”
We thought about this for a second. Then I said, “If it’s your first choice, then we’re more useful to him alive than dead. He can set up on us and follow us to Gina. If it’s your second choice, then he’d probably rather see us dead so we don’t try to find her and lead anyone to him.”
“He might also just be a rabid dog. Bite anything that comes near,” Doc said. “I’ve seen lots of assholes just like him who were that way. Couldn’t think five minutes ahead.”
“That’s right. If we were in Mexico, he’d probably just bomb our office building with us in it,” Kenny said.
“Either way, he’s basically telling us that he’s going to be watching us—either to have us lead him to Gina, or in preparation for taking one or more of us out. I think we need to bump up our security level,” Doc said.
“That makes a lot of sense,” I said. “Pay attention, everyone. This bastard could be parked across the street right now. If these guys are out there essentially stalking us, we need to be able to recognize them and counter it. Everyone needs to be armed at all times. If anyone sees anything unusual—a car, people, anything at all—hunker down and call Doc or me. We’ll be right there. Got it?”
“Great,” Kenny said. “So basically, you guys are saying that we’ve managed to find a psychotic, homicidal maniac and, without even meeting him, we’ve pissed him off to the point that he either wants to follow us and then kill us, or maybe just save time and go right ahead and kill us straightaway? Is that it?”
“Almost, but you got one thing wrong,” Doc said to him. “He’s not interested in following you.”
“That’s right, you little coward,” Toni said. “You don’t know anything. No reason for him to follow you.”
“Good,” Kenny said. “I’m safe.”
“No, no. That’s not what I meant,” Toni said. “What I meant was, you don’t know anything worthwhile, so he won’t waste time following you. Instead, he’ll just kill you straightaway.”
“Oh, great.”
Everyone laughed, except for Kenny.
“Okay,” I said. “Game’s heating up. Be careful.”
Chapter 7
AFTER OUR STAFF meeting, Toni and I drove past Memori
al Stadium at the eastern end of Seattle Center on our way to Gina’s condo. When I was in high school, the state championship track and field meets were held at Memorial Stadium. In my senior year, I remember running the mile in the state finals there. The race was four times around the track. The favorite was a fast kid from Spokane with a personal record of something like four minutes, twenty seconds. My own personal record was four minutes fifty. I knew going in that it would be tough, and it was. Bell lap and I was gassed. I’d managed to stay with the Spokane kid for the first three laps, but it was tough. Then, after the bell, he turned up the heat a little, just to see if I could hang with him. I did, but it hurt and he knew it. So he did what good runners do—he turned up the heat a little more. This turned the event into a two-person race: him leading, me struggling to hang on, everyone else falling back fast. Coming off the final turn, he started his kick, as I knew he would. In response, I did my own version of a kick, but it was pretty obvious that I couldn’t hang with him. I started to fall back myself.
Yet even as I began to falter, my teammates and our supporters yelled for me, encouraged me on, urged me forward. And somehow, right in the middle of the screaming throng, I remember seeing Gina. To my weary eyes, she was a vision. Strikingly beautiful, smiling, confident, waving me forward. I felt a breath of inspiration. I was renewed. I had to do better, dig deeper. Spurred on by the sight of that beautiful high-school sophomore, I found a burst of energy and was able to kick it up to a new gear that I never knew I had. In the last fifty yards of the race, I closed the distance on the leader. I felt like I had wings.
Unfortunately, as I drew near, my opponent heard me closing. Turns out that on that day, he had the bigger wings, and he was gone. I crossed the finish line several seconds later, in second place. Afterward, I was disappointed but not devastated. I’d known I was an underdog and that my chances were not great. I jogged a little to cool down, and then returned to the team area.
My teammates congratulated me for running hard and taking second place.
“Noble effort, dude,” Robbie said.
Angel Dance (Danny Logan Mystery #1) Page 10