BOOKER Box Set #2 (A Private Investigator Thriller Series of Crime and Suspense): Volumes 4-6

by John W. Mefford

  “Super Tech, Josh. I figured you’d already have him lined up to crack that security to allow you to see Natalie’s Snap this and Snap that.”

  She pursed her lips. “He’s been so caring and sweet to me.” Bringing a fist to her face, I could see tears bubble in her amber eyes.

  “Isn’t that a good thing?” Reading girls and their related emotions was an activity in which I’d had a lot of practice, but I still failed at miserably. With Samantha, I was slightly better than average, but that’s probably because she’d yet to reach the invisible milestone where females evolved into a different species than males. Or had we males simply devolved? I’d let someone else untangle that hairball.

  “I wonder sometimes if it’s too good to be true.”

  I opened my jaw, feeling a need to respond, but I wasn’t sure whom I was defending.

  She jumped in before I laid another male-ignorant egg.

  “It’s a number of things.” She started bending fingers as she silently went through her list. “I’m just not used to needing someone like I need Josh.”

  Perhaps she noticed a smirk.

  “It’s not like that, Booker.” She wiped a trailing tear. “I’m more the type to do everything myself and ask permission later. I don’t need a guy.”

  “I can see that.”

  “But I can tell I need his…appreciation for me. His support.”

  I nodded. “Nothing wrong with that, especially if he’s offering it.” Her reasons sounded like excuses for not trusting herself to dive into the relationship. But what did I know?

  “On top of that, I know he’s suffering with his finances. Booker & Associates hasn’t exactly been funneling paying gigs his way.”

  Man, Alisa was carrying a hell of a load on her shoulders.

  “I can’t afford to give out charity, but I’ll see what I can do for him helping us with the investigation into finding Natalie.”

  She planted a hand on the desk. “It’s not like that. I…I don’t want you to come in and rescue me either.” Her watery eyes began to leak and despite desperate attempts to swipe them away, they wouldn’t be denied. Within seconds, her face was flooded with dark, snail-like trenches.

  Spotting a box of tissue on the cluttered corner of my desk, I yanked one out and gave it to her. She pulled out three more herself and buried her face in the mound of soft, white tissues.

  For a moment, all I could hear was my own heart thumping my chest wall as I pondered if I should go over and hug her, let her cry it out on my shoulder. But I held back.

  A choppy, chirping sound came from outside. I turned my head and could see the outline of a bird perched just outside the stained glass window, fluttering its wings.

  “Someone’s in a good mood,” she said with her face still covered in white tissue, her nasal passages so clogged her voice resembled a trombone sound.

  I tried not to chuckle.

  “Alisa, leaning on people who care about you is normal, especially when you’re dealing with all this crap.”

  “I know, but my history plays tricks on my mind. I feel weak if I’m not able to take care of myself completely. Am I just stupid, or stubborn?”

  “I vote the second one.”

  She released a phlegmy chuckle. “We need to get back to work.”

  “I’m ready if you are.”

  “Only if you’re ready to deal with…this!” Dropping her hands to her lap, she revealed a face that would have made Marilyn Manson jealous. Her eyes bulged behind a camouflaged face. She started to chuckle.

  I clenched my teeth, somewhat in jest, which only enhanced her laughter.

  “I’m thirsty. I could go for a cold beverage. Justin still have those G2s in his fridge?”

  “I think so. Can you get me one? I think I need to visit the bathroom.”

  A few minutes later, I cracked the cap on a tangerine-flavored bottle. Alisa took a healthy swig of a purple G2. Samantha’s favorite, go figure.

  Minus about ninety-nine percent of her makeup, Alisa appeared a bit more pale, a few lines at the edges of her eyes, but naturally pretty. She’d used a massive hair clip—the sharp teeth looked like the Jaws of Life—to corral a bunch of hair behind her head, revealing more of her neck.

  “Before I show you mine, will you show me yours?” She popped a brow, then took a quick slurp from her G2. Sassy Alisa had returned.

  “Last night at the gala.”

  “I’m all ears.”

  I went over every detail of the night, focusing on the confrontation with Zahi Kareem. I purposely left out my commentary about Renee, who looked radiant. Just repeating her name in my mind created a little flicker inside.

  “And you didn’t kick his ass all the way back to Saudi Arabia?” Alisa’s accent and mindset had temporarily reverted to her East Texas roots.

  “Not the right time or place. But I think one of his bodyguards is probably wearing a cast on his hand today.”

  I smiled, and Alisa matched it.

  “Do you think he was telling you the truth?”

  “I replayed the conversation in my head all night. Zahi’s not a man who’s accustomed to placating people, giving in on anything. His money and power make him think he’s untouchable. But it really seemed like his feelings for Natalie were authentic.”

  “I’m sure he has a different woman in every port, given what you described. If that’s the case, then there’s got to be a good chance he was bullshitting you. No?”

  “It’s possible, I guess. Something tells me I don’t think that will be my last discussion with Zahi.” I popped a knuckle. “Have you been able to figure out anything from the data you pulled from Natalie’s phone?”

  Alisa danced across her keyboard, then put a finger to the screen. “Lots of analysis left to do with cross-referencing the social media sites.”

  “Have you—”

  “I know…Josh. I’ll call and ask him to help with the Snapchat security.”

  “Good. Continue, please.”

  “All of the phone calls and text messages started trending down the last month before she…” Alisa opted not to use the term. I blinked, and she kept sharing. “While she and Zahi shared a lot of calls and texts, there was one other number that almost matched that same volume. But this one didn’t have a person associated with it.”

  “I’m sure you called it.”

  “It’s a business—East Coast, so it wasn’t open when I called earlier.”

  “What type of a business?”

  “A marketing firm. Checked the website, www.coolbreeze.com, and they’re based in Miami. South Beach.”

  I chewed the inside of my cheek, an image of a feisty, sexy Latina invading my mind. Maggie Calero had blown through Dallas a couple of months back, at the exact same moment a sniper was trying to assassinate a mob hitman, with me in the middle of it all. We bonded over the ensuing twenty-four hours, as we both evaded sure death more than once. The former DEA agent-turned private investigator had since gone back to her stomping ground, Miami.

  “Have you been able to verify if Natalie had a modeling gig in the Miami area?”

  “According to the report from PPI, it shows that she did a gig. It only lists Cool Breeze Marketing Concepts as the client. What got my attention, though, is that the phone calls continued for a good month after the gig. No text messages.”

  “Any voicemails?” I asked.

  “If there were, they were erased.”

  “Wonder if Josh could try to recover those?”

  “I’ll ask, but that might go through the cell phone carrier.”

  “True, and then we’d need a warrant.”

  I turned to the window, my eyes mesmerized by the dimples in the stained glass.

  “Didn’t Tiara say they had someone accompany each of their younger female models when they traveled for an out-of-town gig?” I asked.

  “She sure did. Tiara called it a tag-along producer.”

  “Can you email her and get the name of Natalie’s t
ag-along to Miami? Let’s set up an interview as soon as possible.”

  “I’m on it.”

  Some progress, and Alisa was helping to drive it, which was a good thing.

  “Okay, I think we need to spend a few minutes discussing our next steps with the Jade case.”

  Alisa’s eyes narrowed as she rattled away on the keyboard.

  I waited a few seconds and gave it another try. “The Jade case. I’m—”

  A door opened and I heard cowboy boots clip the concrete floor downstairs. “Hola, Booker!”

  Alisa lifted her eyes to me, a smirk playing on her lips.

  “Paco?”

  “You did say you wanted to talk about the Jade case?”

  “Damn, you’re good.”

  “I can’t take credit for the near-perfect timing of his arrival, but you’d asked me to file a missing person’s report with Paco yesterday.”

  “Thanks for doing that. I know it wasn’t easy, but it’s a step in the process. It could help.”

  She gave me a quick nod, more of a business affirmation than a personal one. I got it.

  “Yeah, the more Paco and I talked, the more Jade’s name came up. I knew you and I would meet sometime this morning.”

  “Is anyone here?” Paco called out from below.

  “Hey, Paco. We’re upstairs in the office.”

  I met him at the top of the stairs, and we gave each other a bro hug. His head bounced off my chest, given his height challenges. “How’s the department treating the best cop out there?” I asked, noticing a gold chain sticking out of his Swiss-cheese jeans that looked older than dirt, but slightly newer than his boots, the color of dirt.

  “Different shit, different day. Still learning to keep my head down when they really start slinging it,” he said.

  “You talking about the same old blame game when shit hits the fan, or more on the street side?”

  “Both sides lately. It all rolls downhill eventually. But you know me. I’m a dedicated company guy.” He belted out a hearty laugh, a thumb hooked inside his front pocket next to that gold chain. “Shiiiit, bitch. Another twenty or so years, and I’ll have a nice little retirement. I’ll buy a boat, fish every day, and enjoy the good life for a change.”

  Part of me wished I could be like Paco: settled, married, a couple of kids, PTA meetings, insurance policies, dividing up house chores, giving out parking tickets, interacting with in-laws and countless other relatives who might resent you, settling a neighbor dispute over sprinklers running on off days, car payments, couples Bunko night. All this, while completing mounds of paperwork for every action I took on the force while receiving a nearly flat income nudging up about seven hundred bucks a year, if the union could squeeze that much from the city turnip.

  Two percent. That was my best estimate of how much I wanted Paco’s life. The remaining ninety-eight percent couldn’t breathe if I didn’t have my current freedom. There was some risk involved in running my own little business, but in my seven years on the force, I’d witnessed people maimed or killed in the most obscure and distressing ways imaginable. I realized that I couldn’t sit around and wait for life to happen when no one shared the time left on my life clock. It could all end tomorrow, or seventy years from now.

  That sounded like a good long-term goal—the first hundred-year-old PI.

  “What’s up with the gold chain? You got so much bling you just can’t keep it all in your pocket?”

  Paco had always shown an affinity to gaudy jewelry, whether it was for himself or his wife. He just didn’t have the bank account to support his obsession.

  Slipping a calloused hand into his pocket, he pulled out a pocket watch. I took a step back.

  “What’s your deal, man?”

  “Last one of those I saw was triggering a bomb explosion.”

  He raised a bushy eyebrow. “True dat,” he said. “Nah, man. I got this from Bucky.”

  His voice turned softer and more serious.

  “Jade’s father?” I sensed Alisa pulling up near me.

  “Hey, Alisa.”

  “Hi, Paco. Long time. What you got there?”

  “A pocket watch, old. Handed down two generations, from what Bucky said.”

  He squeezed the latch release, popped open the brass watch and angled it toward Alisa and me.

  “It’s a picture of Jade with her grandfather.”

  “No offense, but why did he give it to you?”

  “I’ve spent some time at their house trying to help them with their daughter’s death. Carol, Jade’s mom, can barely function, man. It’s tough to watch.” Pretending to hold a glass, he acted like he was taking a drink. “You get what I’m saying?”

  For some reason, he didn’t feel comfortable saying Jade’s mom was drinking her sorrows away. I’d witnessed the same thing when I’d dropped by.

  “It’s never easy, I know.” Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Alisa, but she kept her hands anchored to her hips.

  Paco held up the watch. “Anyway, Carol was breaking down right in front of me. They were going through Jade’s things, and she found this watch. She said she couldn’t stand to look at a memory of her like that, and she thought I’d been so nice to them, so she gave it to me.”

  “That’s a first, a vic’s parents giving out family heirlooms.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t want to take it. I tried to refuse it, but Bucky looked me in the eye when Carol ran into the bathroom, and he asked me to take it, at least for a while. So, I guess I feel like I’m renting it. Maybe it’s a good luck charm. It will help us find out who killed her.”

  “Thanks for dropping by. Wanted to discuss that with you.”

  “No problem, man.” Paco appeared to get a bit misty eyed.

  “You want a drink? I’m getting a refill,” I said.

  “Ice water would be good.”

  “Alisa?”

  “I’m good, thanks.”

  “Back in a flash.”

  Paco headed into the office while I hoofed it down the steps, still seventeen if I was counting correctly.

  Halfway to the bar, a head popped up from the other side, which literally made me jump.

  “Shit, Dax. You like scaring the shit out of people?”

  “Oh, sorry. Thought you guys heard me come in when you were talking to your buddy Paco.” He removed his windbreaker and tossed it behind him while scanning a clipboard with his finger. “He’s your old DPD partner?”

  “The one and only.”

  He’d already tuned me out.

  I said, “I’m just getting a couple of drinks, and I’ll be out of your way.”

  He mumbled something, and I noticed a perturbed look etched into his face. I tried to ignore it, eager to get back upstairs and quiz Paco on the Jade murder investigation.

  “Thanks.” I carried two glasses filled with ice water between tables that still had chairs stacked on top.

  “Hey, Booker,” Dax called out before I disappeared.

  “Yeah?” I kept walking.

  “You guys finishing up soon? I need Alisa’s help with this list of crap I have to finish before we can open this afternoon. I’ll never get it done on time without her help.”

  Hearing more than enough Dax attitude, I hesitated at the first step. I tried to keep my response measured.

  “I guess you’re helping Justin again today?”

  He popped out a hip, his hand firmly planted on it. “Uh, why else do you think I’m standing behind the bar? I’m not here because of the great atmosphere or anything.” He rolled his eyes.

  This was the Dax I’d come to know and loathe back when he was helping David cover up his swindling tracks. He came across as if he were born into a royal family, bequeathed privileges that the rest of us could only dream about. Perhaps The Jewel didn’t have quite the five-star prestige or patrons as Marvel.

  “Dude, you need to dial back a little bit of your attitude.” I glanced up the steps to ensure Alisa wasn’t listening and took a couple of
steps back toward the bar. “Do you know what Alisa’s going through right now?”

  Tapping a finger against his chin, he looked off to the corner. “Damn, those light fixtures need some dusting.”

  “What?” Heat invaded my neck.

  “Is it that time of the month or something?” He grabbed the clipboard and flipped to another page.

  I walked another few steps closer, my teeth clenched, but I made sure to keep my volume low.

  “Listen, dumbass. Alisa’s sister hasn’t been seen in over a week. She’s concerned, and I’m concerned, that something bad has happened, and we’re working and praying like hell that we find her. So, while she’s trying to live a mostly normal life, she’s got a lot on her mind.”

  His eyes bulged behind his thick-rimmed glasses. “Well, I guess I can handle most of this myself. If I have to.”

  I shook my head.

  “What? I’m holding down two jobs myself,” he said with a whiny pitch.

  I’d come to the conclusion long ago that Dax had been put on Earth just to annoy me. Then again, I think he had that effect on a lot of people, Alisa included.

  “I can’t fix your life. I’m just asking you to cut Alisa a break, that’s all. But if she knows I said anything to you, she’d get doubly mad. So, grow some balls and chill out. Got it?”

  “Yeah, okay. Whatever.” He flipped his back to me and stared up at the glass shelves of liquor.

  I huffed out a breath then headed back to the office.

  “Everything okay?” Alisa asked as I handed Paco his glass of water.

  “Just teaching Dax some manners.”

  “You’ve got a better chance with a convicted felon,” she said. We locked eyes, both of us thinking about Dax’s boyfriend, David, who could have fallen into that category.

  I changed the topic back to our priority.

  “Hey, Paco. I don’t mean to put you in an awkward position.” I raised an eyebrow, noticing he was leaning against the wall…awkwardly. “Sorry, dude. You can sit in the chair next to Alisa.”

  “I’m cool. That chair reminds me of sitting in the principal’s office back in middle school.”

  I leaned left, and my swivel chair squeaked.

  “Where did you get this furniture anyway?” Paco walked over and smacked the back of the vacant chair. I saw a small puff of dust.