Sativa Strain

by Alexi Venice

  “I’m not sure. A red package—Pall Malls maybe?”

  “Are you asking me or telling me?” Tommy asked.

  “Well. Everything in the Scarlet Huntington Hotel room is fucking red. The chairs. The drapery. The duvet. Maybe I’m projecting red onto her pack of cigarettes too. Let me think for a minute.” He closed his eyes and concentrated. When he opened them, he said, “Yes. Pall Malls.”

  “What else did she bring? Besides marijuana and cigarettes?” Tommy asked.

  Voss stared at the wall opposite him. “I don’t know. Female stuff. Toothbrush. Hair products. She always took a shower before she left, and she used a bunch of stuff in her bag.”

  “Do you have any questions for Mr. Voss, Amanda?” Tommy asked.

  “Did you ever videotape sex with her?” Amanda asked.

  “No. God no. Are you kidding me? She’s running for President.”

  Amanda restrained herself from saying, “It wouldn’t be the first time,” and instead said, “I don’t have anything else.”

  “Okay. That’s it for now,” Tommy said. “Don’t talk to Mrs. Montiago about this and don’t leave town. Give me your phone number in case we need to talk to you again.”

  Voss removed his wallet and handed Tommy a business card. Tommy reciprocated. “Call me if you think of anything else.”

  “Am I in danger?” Voss asked.

  “I don’t know,” Tommy said. “Is there anything else you’d like to tell me?”

  “Based on what you know,” Voss said.

  “You weren’t her first lover, you know.”

  “Is someone killing her lovers? Am I next?”

  “Why would someone want to kill you?” Tommy asked.

  “For the same reason they killed her other lover. And, I don’t know why that is, so I’m at a disadvantage here.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” Tommy said. “In my experience, killers usually have a motive. Greed. Jealousy. Revenge. Rage. Robbery gone bad. I’m wondering what the motive would be to kill you.”

  “Maybe her husband is jealous,” Voss said. “Maybe he hired a hit man.”

  Tommy and Amanda smiled politely. “Listen, Mr. Voss. Just act normal. Stick to your regular routine. Don’t leave town. And don’t talk to Kara Montiago about this, okay?”

  “Easy for you to say,” Voss said.

  Tommy shook his head and leaned in close to Voss’s face. “Listen, fuck whoever you want to. I don’t care. But a man was murdered. Stop thinking about yourself and start thinking of ways to help me catch the killer. Or, as you say, you might be next.”

  “Tommy,” Amanda said in a low voice.

  Tommy backed off, leaving a shocked Voss staring at him. “I think it’s time you left my office, Detective Vietti.”

  “Me too,” Tommy said. “We can show ourselves out.”

  Amanda followed Tommy down the hall and through the thick door to the reception area. Once they were in the elevator, she turned to him with raised eyebrows.

  “What?!” he asked, raising his hands.

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  They were met by Frank on the first floor. “Hi Frank. Ready to roll?” Tommy asked.

  “That was quick,” Frank said.

  “Alibi confirmed,” Tommy said. “Next stop is the Scarlet Huntington to get security cam footage from 8:30 to midnight.”

  “I’m sure you could get a couple of officers to do that,” Frank suggested, as they walked to the car.

  Tommy took the front seat again. “Good idea. I’ll call Ryan to assign someone.”

  Just as Tommy removed his phone from his pocket, it rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Tommy Vietti?” a female asked.

  “Yes.”

  “This is Kara Montiago.”

  “Hello. What a coincidence,” Tommy said. “I have a question for you. Do you remember the number of the room that you and Vincent Voss stayed in at the Scarlet last night?”

  “The Passion Suite,” she said without skipping a beat.

  “Gotcha,” he said to her, then turned to Frank and Amanda and mouthed, “The Passion Suite.” Frank removed a notebook from his pocket and wrote it down.

  Tommy returned his attention to Kara Montiago. “What can I do for you?”

  “You can’t meet with my Carlos today.”

  “Why?”

  “He tried to kill himself, so I called the local police. They’re taking him to the hospital right now.” Her voice cracked with a restrained sob.

  “Which hospital?”

  “Stanford Inpatient Psychiatric,” she said.

  “Is he hurt?” Tommy asked.

  “No. He didn’t actually use the knife on himself. He just held it to his wrists, then to his neck, while yelling at me in the kitchen.”

  “You told him about your affair with Jared Carlisle?” Tommy asked.

  “Yes. As soon as I told him what was happening, he flipped out and grabbed a knife. I thought he was going to kill me, but he became unglued and threatened to kill himself. After I talked him down, I called the police. They came to the house and committed him on a 5150—involuntary hold.”

  “I’m sorry,” Tommy said. “Where are you now?”

  “I’m at home. Some close friends and my campaign manager are here with me. By the way, tell Ms. Hawthorne I hired her former campaign manager, Chance Greyson.”

  Amanda heard Montiago on Tommy’s phone from the back seat. She closed her eyes and shook her head. Wasn’t my silence a signal during our phone call that there was something afoot? I hope he asked for one helluva retainer.

  Tommy mumbled a few platitudes to Montiago then ended the call. He turned to Frank and Amanda. “Well, change of plans. Looks like we’re driving to Stanford Inpatient Psychiatric instead of the Montiago home.”

  “We can’t interview him on the inpatient ward,” Amanda said. “That’s a locked unit.”

  “So?” Tommy asked. “This is a homicide investigation.”

  “He has patient rights under California law,” she said. “He doesn’t have to talk to us.”

  “I’ve talked to patients on the Psych Ward before,” Tommy said.

  “Only if they consented to it. Let’s give him some time for treatment and medication, huh?”

  “Maybe you have a point.”

  “Let’s go back to the office, and you can call the hospital later. Talk to the Psychiatric Director to see if Montiago will speak to us before we waste a trip down there.”

  “Okay. You’re the lawyer,” he said. “To the Hall, Frank.”

  “What about the security cam footage at the Scarlet?” Frank asked.

  “You don’t mind if we swing by and get that, do you, Amanda?” Tommy asked. “Now that we can’t interview Carlos today.”

  “Not at all. Let’s go.”

  Chapter 16

  San Francisco

  Amanda used the drive to The Scarlet Huntington to reflect on the night prior. She pictured herself proposing to Jen then sitting on her lap, making out, and whispering sweet nothings to each other. Hearing Jen say “yes,” and watching her slide the ring on her finger, had made Amanda happy, truly happy, for the first time in her life.

  The contentment she felt with Jen and Kristin was a stark contrast to the dark realities of her dangerous job. In the span of 12 hours, she had gone from the pinnacle of joy to staring at a corpse in a kitchen. Why the hell do I put myself through this? Isn’t there something else I could do for a career?

  She had never felt this way before, questioning her love of the job. Was it because she had never felt this happy in her personal life? Her sentiments were murky and evasive.

  Feeling off balance, and a little guilty, especially in the middle of an investigative pursuit, she set aside her introspection. She needed ample time and a meditative atmosphere to contemplate the nuances of domestic bliss versus criminal justice. She did, however, take mental note of the restlessness in her belly.

  She
texted Jen. Hey, how’s your day going?

  Jen replied right away. Super busy. How about you?

  Same. Working on a new case with Tommy.

  Please tell me it’s not going to affect our home life…

  I plan to be home at the regular time tonight

  You know what I mean.

  I know. I won’t let it affect our family. Did anyone notice ur engagement ring today?

  :) Yes. Melissa and Shannon gawked.

  They’re so sweet.

  It’s beautiful. I love it.

  That makes me so happy. I love you.

  I love you, too. R u sleeping over tonight?

  If you want me to

  I want u

  I’ll do yoga and come over

  Maybe we could meet at the new house and work out together there?

  I’d love that. Let me check with Jack to make sure it’s clean

  It looked nice last night

  Let me check

  Okay. Clinic is hopping. Bye

  Amanda switched off her phone and set it on her lap. She gazed out the window as they sped over the hills that carried the infamous trolley cars, the cables humming with busy life. Love and warmth flooded her chest at the thought that Jen loved the ring and had shown it to Melissa and Shannon.

  She almost wished she wasn’t in the criminal justice business. Even though she felt guilty for thinking so, she half-wished she had a happier job, filled with hope and promise at the good in people. Instead, Jen and Kristin were her only beacons of hope.

  She felt a needle of dread run through her body at starting another term as DA. The dread was followed by guilt for being unappreciative of all those who had worked on her campaign and voted for her. She had won a hard-fought battle, so why was she second-guessing her appetite for the job? She’d never experienced regret thus far in her career, so why was it niggling her today?

  Frank pulled up to the sidewalk in front of the Scarlet, cutting off her uninvited contemplation. Tommy opened his door and got out, informing the valet that they were on police business—and would be only a minute—so the car needed to stay where it was. He opened the car door for Amanda and she emerged into a light drizzle, in contrast to the sunshine they had enjoyed down the peninsula at the Tyche campus. It’s always sunny in Doucheville, she thought.

  Frank rounded the car, gave the valet a few dollars, and held the hotel door for Amanda. While Amanda and Frank hung back, taking in the interior of the lobby and checking for security cams, Tommy approached the front desk and asked for the manager on duty.

  An Asian woman emerged from the back, wearing a tight, grey suit. Her quick eyes scanned Tommy and floated over to Frank and Amanda.

  “How can I help you?” she asked.

  Tommy removed his bifold and showed her his ID. Frank and Amanda joined them at the desk and did the same.

  She read each of their ID’s, looking twice at Amanda’s and checking it against her face. “Congratulations on being re-elected. I voted for you.”

  “Thanks for your vote. We’re here on official police business in the investigation of a homicide. We hope you can help us.”

  “What do you need?” she asked.

  “We need security camera video from last night—from 8 pm to midnight,” Tommy said.

  “Of what areas?” she asked.

  “The lobby and reception desk, and the hallways leading to the ‘Passion Suite,’” he said, using his fingers for air quotes.

  “I can arrange for that. Can you wait here a minute?”

  “First, can you give us a quick tour of the Passion Suite?” Tommy asked.

  “Of course. I don’t know if it’s occupied, but we can check. Let me do that as well as start making copies of the security footage for you.” She unceremoniously left them and circled behind the reception desk. She whispered to the person on duty then disappeared into the back area.

  Tommy winked at Amanda and scanned the lobby for refreshments. “Ahh. Perfect. A coffee bar with cookies.” He headed straight for the opposite wall and helped himself to a coffee and two chocolate chip cookies. Frank joined, forcing Amanda to tag along. She poured herself a large cup of cold water, hoping the hydration would get rid of her hungover feeling from the morning cigarette. Or was it the corpse?

  The manager returned. “Okay. I can take you now. Follow me.”

  “Can you point out the security cams on the way, please?” Tommy asked through a cookie.

  She smiled but didn’t reply. She simply pointed to two corners in the lobby ceiling then walked to the elevators. They took the elevator to the twelfth floor—the top floor of the hotel. As they walked down the hall, she pointed out a security cam that captured the entire hallway. It was hidden in a silk tree at the end of the hallway. If she hadn’t pointed it out, Amanda wouldn’t have noticed it.

  She led them to the room and scanned the key card. They entered a garish black and red sitting area. Voss had been right—everything was “fucking red.” The draperies, the leather-upholstered chairs, the duvet and matching canopy over the bed, which had black stitching resembling a corset. The suite was aptly named, but too over-the-top for Amanda’s taste. The room belonged in a Godfather movie.

  “No cameras in the suite?” Tommy asked.

  “Of course not.” The manager gave him a tiny scowl like he should know better. “Anything else you need to see in this room?”

  “No. You’ve been very helpful. Thanks.”

  They trooped back down to the front desk where a DVD was resting on the counter. She handed it to Tommy. “Let me know if you need anything else.”

  “We will. Thank you for your time. Here’s my card if you need to get ahold of me. Do you have a card?”

  She hesitated but reached into her pocket and produced one for him. He read her name aloud. “Margaret Peng.” His eyes found hers. “Nice to meet you.”

  “No one calls me Margaret. Call me Molly.” She smiled demurely.

  Is she flirting? Amanda wondered.

  “Thanks, Molly. Hope to talk to you soon.” Tommy laid his puppy dog smile on her.

  There was a brief pause while they held each other’s gaze, leading Amanda to conclude that they were, in fact, flirting. Can’t wait to tease him about this….

  Molly broke off first and smiled briefly, as she retreated behind the reception desk and disappeared through the mysterious door to the back.

  “Time to go?” Frank asked.

  “Yeah,” Tommy said, flicking Molly’s card with his index finger.

  Once they were tucked in the car and headed down Taylor Street, Tommy said, “I’m sure Navarro and his team will enjoy watching this four-hour DVD to look for Montiago and Voss.”

  “We’re keeping them busy this week,” Amanda said.

  “No kidding,” Tommy said.

  “Be interesting to see who Navarro catches on video taking the bait we planted in the Evidence Room,” Frank said.

  “It kills me when one of our own is on the take,” Tommy said.

  “I’ve seen it happen too many times over the years,” Frank said.

  “Hey Amanda,” Tommy said, turning so he could see her from the front seat.

  “Hey what?” she mocked.

  “When we get back, I’m gonna call the Psychiatric Hospital. If they give me a hard time, can I get you involved?”

  “Of course.”

  “Thanks.”

  “If you need anything else, please call me,” she said, imitating Molly Peng.

  “Stop it,” he said and turned around.

  Chapter 17

  The Sunset District

  That evening

  When Frank and Amanda reached her new house after work, she said, “Come in, Frank. I want to show you around before Jen and Kristin get here.”

  They walked up the front steps together, and she punched the code into the security system pad. They entered the open-concept living room, spun in golden hues by the sun’s decent into the ocean.

  �
�Beautiful place, Amanda. When do you move in?” he asked, his eyes scanning the vaulted ceiling and ornate trim work.

  “They say anytime, but I don’t know if I believe them.” She searched the countertops until she saw what she was looking for—a brown, soft-sided cooler on the kitchen island. The name of Jack’s San Jose law firm was printed on the cooler’s side, so she immediately recognized it as the one he told her to expect.

  “Oh good, your money is here.” Amanda walked over and picked up the cooler and handed it to Frank.

  “What’s this?” he asked, not tracking. She was handing him a cooler but talking about money.

  “Remember? I want to give you a bonus because of all you do for me. I asked Daddy to get some cash for you. He used this cooler as a carrying case.”

  “That was quick, but I could do with a bit of cold cash.” He admired the small soft-sided bag. “Do I get to keep the cooler?”

  She laughed. “Of course. It’s from his old law firm.”

  “Thank you very much.” Frank threw the long, brown strap over his shoulder and patted the rectangular bag, now hanging by his waist.

  “Thanks for going above and beyond.” She used the lull in the conversation to return his genuine smile. “Let me give you a tour. You and Zumba are going to have to get used to a new place.”

  She showed him through the entire house, and just as they were walking up the stairs from the basement, the front doorbell rang.

  Amanda looked through the small window at the top of the door to see Jen and Kristin waiting outside. She opened the door wide.

  “Hi, Jen. Hi, Kristin,” Frank said, touching Kristin’s tiny hand. “How’s the cutest little girl in the world?”

  She smiled, then buried her face in Jen’s shoulder.

  “Shall I pick you up at Jen’s tomorrow morning?” Frank asked Amanda.

  “Yes. The usual time,” she said.

  He nodded and squeezed past Jen and Kristin on his way out the door. Amanda gave the girls a bear hug, and Kristin responded by grabbing onto Amanda’s neck and swinging from Jen to Amanda.

  “I love you, too, baby girl!” Amanda said, as Kristin smacked into her body, then clung to her like Velcro.

  Jen smiled with joy.

  Amanda winked at her. “Let me show you the entry code, so you two can come and go as you please.”