Angel Dance (Danny Logan Mystery #1)

by M. D. Grayson

  “Dwayne, are you there?” I talked to the speakerphone in the center of our conference room table.

  “Here,” he called back.

  “Gus?”

  “Yo!”

  “Good. Thanks for calling in, guys. I’m here with Toni and three other gentlemen who work with the firm here and whom I don’t believe you’ve met yet. Kenny Hale is here—he’s our technology expert.”

  “Good morning,” Kenny called out.

  “Joaquin Kiahtel is here. He’s our security expert.”

  “Gentlemen,” Doc said.

  “And Richard Taylor is here. Richard is our consultant emeritus.”

  “Hey, Richard,” Dwayne called out. “Good to talk to you again. It’s been a long time.”

  “Good morning, Dwayne,” Richard replied. “At my age, any morning you wake up above ground is a good one. It’s good to still be around and involved.”

  “I hear you,” Dwayne said, laughing.

  I started the meeting. “We’ve made steady progress over the past five days.” I spent twenty minutes reviewing the events of the past week, including our trip to Ramon’s Cantina, discovering Kara’s identity, right up through our fight with Eddie Salazar’s troops yesterday afternoon, and my subsequent trip to the hospital.

  “Holy shit,” Gus said. “You guys lead an interesting life for civilians.”

  “I’m not certain interesting is the word I’d use,” I said. “After all, I did get hit in the head with a two-by-four.”

  Dwayne laughed. “Sounds interesting as all hell to me. Looks like Eddie Stiletto is acting true to form. And he’s out in the open now. He’s on the hunt, and now it’s Gina that he’s after—maybe Kara Giordano, too. He doesn’t seem to care whom he runs over or whom he hurts. Gina must have done something pretty nasty to piss him off, don’t you think?”

  “Sure sounds like it. Sounds like she’s playing teasey windup on purpose with a homicidal maniac,” Gus said. “Do you think she knew what she was doing? And who she was doing it with?”

  “Yes, and yes,” Toni said.

  I looked at Toni. “What are you saying?” I asked.

  “Look,” she said. “I don’t know Gina, never met her. I don’t want to speak ill of her, and I’m not trying to lay down an indictment against her now. But everything I’ve ever heard about her in the past week paints a picture of someone who is definitely the smartest one in the room. Without fail, everyone we’ve talked to says she’s always in control. She’s always got a plan. She’s always a few steps ahead of everyone else. Why would this suddenly change now? Why would she start screwing up now?”

  She paused for a second to reload, then she continued. “I can’t think of a single reason why she’d purposely cozy up to a maniac like Eddie Salazar, but if past form is any indication, I’d put good hard money on the notion that she did it on purpose, and she knew exactly what she was doing when she did it. The part about it that pisses me off is that whatever game she’s playing, she’s got a whole bunch of other people dragged into it now. And some of these people are starting to get hurt.” Toni was angry. “I still haven’t seen anything that doesn’t support this theory.”

  It was silent for a few seconds as everyone considered this. She almost sounded like a prosecutor. Somehow I felt like I needed to try and calm Toni down, and at the same time, defend Gina. “What you’re saying is possible,” I said, “but it could also be that she didn’t know who she was dealing with, or, like you say, she did know but she miscalculated and pushed him too far.”

  “Well, if that happened, it sounds to me like it would be the first time in her entire life that she’s made a mistake in just about anything she’s ever done,” Toni said sharply, looking straight at me. Oops. I wasn’t able to outmaneuver Toni when she was on a roll, like now.

  “You’ll look pretty silly saying that if it turns out she’s dead,” I said.

  She stared at me for a second, then said, “If she’s dead, I’ll kiss your—”

  Richard interrupted the action. “Folks, what’s our timeline here?”

  Toni continued to glare at me for another moment before looking away.

  Kenny answered. “Kara Giordano said the last time she talked to Gina was last Thursday afternoon. The last time we know of anyone seeing Gina is Robbie Fiore seeing her leave Pacific Wine and Spirits at six thirty the same evening. Then, Kara gets jumped by Eddie Salazar at eight thirty the same night. Next day, Gina’s disappeared. And we don’t have any idea, except for Ms. Blair’s theory, which for the moment is impossible to either prove or disprove.”

  “One thing we do know, though,” Richard said. “Eddie Salazar is out there and, for whatever reason, he’s behaving poorly. And he’s dangerous.”

  “Well said,” Dwayne said. “We may as well focus on that for now. How do we find him?”

  “No record of him with Department of Licensing,” Kenny said. “No driver’s license, no vehicle registrations, no titles.”

  “According to Kara, Gina said that Eddie lives in Kent across from a cemetery,” I said.

  “Can’t be too many cemeteries in Kent,” Gus said. “You guys going to check them out? It’s a little south of our jurisdiction down there.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “We haven’t mapped it out yet, but I was going to ask Kenny and Doc to do that so Toni and I could scout out the areas.”

  “If we get lucky and you find him, we’ll have to coordinate with Tacoma PD,” Dwayne said.

  “I think I’ll run Eddie Salazar’s name past the gang guys here and in Tacoma,” Gus said. “Maybe they’re working something on Eddie Salazar.”

  “Speaking of names,” I said, “Kara said that Eddie told her to call Ramon’s Cantina and leave a message for . . .” I tried to remember the name.

  “Armando Martinez,” Toni filled in, reengaged.

  “Right,” I said. “Armando Martinez.”

  “We’ll run that name, too, and let you know what we find,” Gus said.

  Dwayne said, “Danny, good thing you told the Giordanos to bolt. I’m not certain that we could adequately protect them considering the resources we have to work with. Better to be hard to find for a while. Are they going to call and let you know how to reach them?”

  “She’s going to call me and let me know,” I said. “I should add that, short of having Eddie on a slab, I doubt she’ll talk to you. She’s scared shitless.”

  He nodded. “That’s good enough for now. Later, though, we may need her testimony.”

  “Let’s cross that bridge when we get there,” I said.

  “Based on the testimony from Kara,” Dwayne said, “we’ll probably have sufficient probable cause for an arrest warrant and a search warrant if we need it. At the very least, we’ve got him on assault against Kara.”

  “We have to be careful that we keep Kara on board,” I said. “If you asked her to testify against Eddie Salazar today on the assault beef, I’m pretty sure she’d tell you to take a hike. She’s too afraid of him coming after her when he gets free. And I can’t say I blame her.”

  “We’re not there yet anyway, people,” Richard said. “Whatever we decide to do, we need to find Mr. Salazar. Then, unless he happens to be holding Gina Fiore at gunpoint in public, we’ll most likely want to watch him for a while and see what we’ve got. If he has her, we need to find out where. If he’s killed her, we need to study his habits. If he’s still looking for her, maybe he’ll lead us to her and we can rescue her if need be. Better to know where he is and keep him in our sites, rather than to go off half-cocked, blow our case, scare the hell out of him, and watch him disappear into the weeds. Trust me, I’ve made that mistake a few times.”

  The room was quiet for a few seconds, then Dwayne said, “Once again, I agree with Richard. Tell you what, Danny, why don’t you write up your notes and send them to me. Also, give me possible locations for Eddie’s residence. If you locate him, call it in and we’ll figure out the best way for surveillance. Meanwhile, Gus will
run the names through his contacts. We won’t be bothering Ms. Giordano at the present time. Does this make sense to everyone?”

  Everyone agreed, and we ended the meeting.

  “Good call,” I said to Richard. He smiled and nodded. He gestured with his head to where Toni had been sitting—she’d gotten up immediately after the meeting and left. “Better smooth that out,” he said.

  I nodded. Great.

  ~~~~

  After the meeting cleared out, I tidied up the conference room and switched off the lights. I checked for messages on the phone system. Right before I started doing something really productive like running around and filling the paper clip dispensers, I finally admitted to myself that I was stalling. I needed to clear the air with Toni. So I walked down the hall to her office and poked my head in. She was typing something on the computer. “Got a minute?” I asked.

  “I do,” she answered without looking up. “I’m typing up a report of our activities yesterday for Dwayne.”

  “Good,” I said. “Thanks.” It was silent for a few seconds except for the clacking of her keyboard. Finally, I said, “Toni—are we okay?”

  She stopped and turned to look at me, and then nodded. “We are,” she said. “I’m sorry for being an asshole in the conference room. I acted like a jerk.”

  “I hope you’re not pissed at me,” I said.

  “I’m not,” she looked away. “You know I have patience issues. Sometimes it’s a little hard for me to be methodical when the answers seem so clear in my mind. Especially when people I know are getting hurt because of someone else’s actions.”

  I smiled. “People like me, you mean?”

  She nodded. “Yeah. I’m sorry. It’s a problem, I admit it, and I’ll work on it so it doesn’t pop up again.” She sounded resolute.

  “I’m touched that you care that much.”

  “I need the job,” she said, dismissively. “I can’t have you getting whacked.” Then she smiled.

  I laughed. “Well, there’s that. Obviously, you still think Gina’s alive. Eddie Salazar doesn’t bother you?”

  “Personally, no. As a threat to Gina, no. I believe she’s most likely way ahead of him. To us, he’s a suspect. To Kara, he’s a psycho-threat. To Gina, though, I think he’s a pawn. There’s no way a smart person like Gina hooks up with a thug like Eddie Salazar unless she’s using him for something. To her, he’s nothing more than a useful idiot.”

  “She couldn’t be authentically attracted to him? You know—a good girl falls for the outlaw type?”

  “Puh-leeze,” she said, rolling her eyes. “You’ve been watching too many movies.”

  “And the odds of her miscalculating and pushing him too far?”

  She shook her head. “For her? Slim,” she said. “Frankly, I’m interested to see how she wraps him up. She has to know the guy’s a friggin’ loose cannon.”

  “Hmm,” I said.

  “But Danny,” she added, “I really am sorry I got bitchy. I’ll try to be better. I don’t mean to undermine you in front of the others.”

  I smiled. “No apology needed,” I said. “My ego can handle different opinions. I just want to make sure we’re okay. That’s important to me.”

  She smiled.

  I smiled back. “And I want you to know something,” I said.

  “What’s that?”

  “You think Gina’s smart, right?”

  “Everyone says so.”

  “Well, I know her, and you’re right. But when it comes to smarts, Gina Fiore has nothing on you.”

  She smiled. “Flattery becomes you, Logan. I like it. Even if you do have a patch on your head.”

  Chapter 11

  JUST AFTER LUNCH, Kenny and Doc completed their research into cemeteries in Kent. There were three. They used maps and Google Earth and found that two of the three were in commercial/industrial neighborhoods just off Highway 167—probably not the most desirable residential areas. Therefore, since Eddie Salazar supposedly lived in a residential area across from a cemetery, they decided that the most likely possibility was the third cemetery—the Hillcrest Burial Park, just east of the Green River. The maps showed a small residential neighborhood just north of the cemetery.

  It wasn’t the strongest bit of detective work I’ve ever acted on, but I figured we didn’t have anything to lose by taking a cruise down to Kent that afternoon and driving through the neighborhood. Who knew? Maybe we’d get lucky and turn something up, maybe even spot the car. Eddie didn’t seem to be the kind of guy who always thought things through. If he didn’t suspect that we might be looking for him, maybe he’d have no reason to hide.

  “Let’s go in my car,” Toni said. “Those guys might remember your stealth-Jeep.” She looked at the Jeepster with disdain. Then she looked at me and shook her head. She said, “You really need to get a more nondescript vehicle for this kind of work, boss.”

  My Jeep is dark red—I think it’s called candy-apple red—and I’ve raised it six inches to accommodate my twenty-inch Rockstar wheels and thirty-five-inch tires. I installed a big winch on the front and another in the back. Either could probably pull me straight up one of those big cedar trees in the Hoh River valley. I enjoy driving around the back roads of the Olympic Peninsula, but I don’t enjoy getting stuck while I’m out there—help can be a long time coming. But I had to admit that in this context, Toni was right. The Jeepster does tend to stand out in a crowd. Of course, generally our suspects aren’t looking for us at the same time we’re looking for them, so it’s not a problem. Now, though?

  “Yeah, you may have a point, but does that mean I have to descend all the way down to a recycled beer can like this?” I asked, gesturing at Toni’s silver Toyota Camry.

  “Be nice,” she said. “Besides, I insist. Hold your nose and cover your eyes if you must, you crybaby. But you’ve got to admit, no one ever notices a silver Toyota.”

  This was true. Probably because every other car on the road up here is either a green Subaru station wagon covered in “Save Tibet” stickers, or it’s a silver Toyota. Honestly, is silver the only color Toyota has?

  “Let’s go,” I said, reaching for the door. At least we weren’t likely to get ID’d and shot at.

  Toni drove. We went south on I-5 to where it met I-405. We took the Highway 167 exit south. We ended up in Kent about forty minutes after we left the office.

  ~~~~

  Whenever I drive down to Kent, the law-enforcement guy in me can’t help thinking of the tragic events of the past that took place in that area. In July 1982, a city worker discovered the body of a young woman in the brush along the banks of the Green River, a picturesque river that meanders peacefully through Kent, maybe fifteen miles southeast of Seattle. Over the next two months, five more bodies turned up in or near the river. The press soon labeled the person responsible for these crimes the “Green River Killer”—an apt name for the homicidal maniac responsible for the eighteen-year reign of terror that was to follow. A steady stream of victims was discovered in the ensuing years. Some of the bodies were found in a posed position. In some cases, it was clear that the killer had returned to the scene and had sex with the dead body. When Gary Leon Ridgway was finally arrested in 2001, he admitted that he’d killed seventy-one young women over the years. Maybe more because, as he put it, he killed so many that he lost track. In a later statement, when asked, Ridgway said that murdering young women was his career. Today, there are at least eighty unsolved cold-case murders of young women between Portland and Vancouver. Ridgway remains a prime suspect in most of them.

  In order to get information from this psycho that would lead to closure in dozens of missing person cold cases, prosecutors made a plea bargain deal with Ridgway. He pled guilty to murdering forty-eight women in exchange for forty-eight life sentences without the possibility of parole plus one more life sentence plus ten years for tampering with the evidence. I’m not sure exactly how many years this adds up to, but I know it’s a long damn time. For Ridgway, who no
w sits in Washington State Penitentiary in Walla Walla, it’s forever. Personally, I hope the scumbag rots. After which I hope he gets to be the main course at the big wienie roast in hell. He deserves no better.

  Needless to say, I always get an odd feeling driving into Kent near the Green River. The place has ghosts and they’re calling out. I hear them. It gives me the heebie-jeebies. As I contemplated the place’s past, Toni turned off the arterial into a housing subdivision situated just north of the Hillcrest Burial Park. The cemetery is located just 250 yards northeast of a bend in the Green River. Weird.

  ~~~~

  “What’s our plan?” Toni asked. “Just drive up and down the streets looking for a silver Mercedes parked in one of the driveways?”

  I shrugged. “Bit of a long shot, I admit. But you never know.” I studied the map Kenny had printed for us. “It’s a small subdivision, only about fifteen streets or so. Shouldn’t take more than an hour tops to drive it. Also, Kenny knows how to get into the Department of Licensing database. He’s pulling a list of late-model silver Mercedes and cross-referencing plate numbers to this immediate area. He might turn up something that could be useful.”

  We spent the next hour slowly cruising the neighborhood—up one street then down the next—looking for anything that might provide a clue. The houses looked to be around thirty years old and were situated on lots that ranged from one-quarter to one-half acre each. For the most part, they were well kept. It looked like a pretty decent area. But we didn’t see a silver Mercedes.

  Toni pulled over next to a forested area at the north end of the subdivision. “How about plan B,” she said. “Instead of looking for a single silver Mercedes, maybe we shouldn’t assume that he lives alone. Maybe he has a group of guys with him? Do you remember seeing any groups of guys outside?”

  “There were a few,” I agreed. “We could look for houses with a cluster of cars.”

  “Or with a cluster of people,” she said.

  “True. We just need to remember to be a little careful. Remember, Salazar said he wanted to get to know you, you being a hot babe and all.”