"Thanks, Doc."
"Mitch, maybe you'll let me take you out for a coffee for a change?"
He and Mitch both received more than enough attention from the opposite sex. His partner had dark brown hair—grey was coming in on the sides. His blue eyes, goatee, thin build yet strong, with broad shoulders made it difficult for the bar flies to say no to him.
Although Mitch was a great guy, loyal to his friends, and would never hurt anyone on purpose, Henry wanted to warn the ME of the potential danger. Despite the fact that he and Mitch had talked about the subject before, and agreed that it would not be such a great idea to eat where they shit, his partner couldn't help himself at times. Mitch was human, and humans screwed up all the time. The people who worked in law enforcement had such little free time, couldn't make time to meet new people, they tended to enter into relationships with other law enforcement officers even when the other law enforcement officer was married. Henry's wife, Julie, who he met back in college, worked as an RN. He could not imagine working with her; it would be very distracting.
His partner had promised to be a gentleman with the ME if they ever went out. Just the same, Henry preferred if Mitch and the ME stayed away from each other, much easier that way.
Mitch acted like he didn't hear the question and began asking her more questions. She answered.
"The victim had been strangled and did not have sex before dying."
Doc needed more time, she promised to inform them if she found something on the body and in the toxicity screen.
"Thanks Doc."
"Let me know about that coffee?" She winked at him.
"Yeah, Doc, I'll call you."
Mitch put his coffee down next to the ME's coffee and pulled out his notepad and pen, gazing at Henry. "You ready?"
He nodded.
Henry walked a spiral pattern around the dumpster while Mitch sketched the scene. A part of his process, Mitch liked sketching the crime scene.
Henry met Mitch in between the dumpster and Smuckey 's. He read over his notes. "Officer Varney, where's our witness?"
The officer pointed and motioned to follow him.
He looked back at Mitch before reaching the lady. Henry was two paces away from the lady when his arms opened up. "Hey Sarah."
They hugged.
"It's been too long Henry," Sarah said.
Henry looked over at a man that accompanied her. "Brendan, how are you?"
Smiling, the man shook his hand. "Hey, Henry."
Several minutes later and a couple of pages of notes in his notebook, Mitch asked, "So what color was the car? Make?"
"It was dark. Black or a dark blue, and I'm pretty sure it was a BMW."
Henry placed his coffee cup down at his feet and wrote in his notepad.
"So a guy dumps the body here in the middle of the night/early morning ..." Mitch said while examining the crime scene.
"After trying to open the dumpster."
Mitch looked at him. "Maybe we'll get lucky with fingerprints?"
She raised a finger. "Oh I forgot something! Uh, it was dark, and he was far away but I think the man had gloves on."
Mitch didn't say anything.
"Okay, good." Henry wrote in his notepad. It really didn't matter if he did or not. A lawyer could claim it's a public area, easy access. He could have touched something in the parking lot, last week or month.
Brendan put a hand on his wife's shoulder. "If you catch him then what?"
Mitch deferred to Henry.
The edges of his mouth curled up. He figured that Mitch wanted to ask, "What do you mean by 'If'?", but his partner did not say anything.
"It depends, there are a lot of variables, but cases like this tend to be pleaded out, but if not, it will go to trial, and Sarah might have to testify to what she saw."
"Yeah, I'll testify against the animal that killed that girl," Sarah said.
Mitch said nothing.
The look on Brendan's face, Henry had seen it before. Husbands, especially fathers, saw danger everywhere.
"If we catch him and if we can gather enough evidence with you being a witness, no defense attorney would risk going to trial, they would plead out."
Brendan appeared nervous.
"I don't want Sarah involved in anything dangerous, she could have problems with her memory."
Sarah's brow pushed up, but she did not comment. Women were more aware of how other people felt, especially how their husbands felt. Brendan apparently felt uneasy, so she did not want to make things worse by her fearlessness.
Mitch held up a hand. "Yes, I know, Brendan. Y'all understand how it works. Right now I know as much as y'all do." He shrugged. "I bet it was some dentist who picked her up at a bar or found her in some online ad and the sex went too far. He got spooked and dumped the poor girl here."
Sarah's face wrinkled, and shifted her attention to Henry. "Would you two like to come in, get out of the cold for a few minutes and I could freshen up your coffees?"
Henry gave Mitch a look. "That would be nice."
Mitch held up a finger. "Yes, and Sarah, perhaps you could show us the spot you were standing when he dumped the body?"
Chapter Eight
Wear The Glasses
Felix Fernandez was divorced and paid child-support for two kids that he barely saw.
When he spoke to them, it was mostly on the phone.
Jeannette, his nineteen-year-old daughter, called or texted him from time to time to remind him that she needed money. Jeannette did not like talking to her mom. His son, Nathaniel, or Nate, was ten years old, and he didn't talk to Felix as much. Loyal to his mother, Nate blamed his father for the divorce.
Three years ago, Terri's brother, Dennis, caught Felix having dinner with another woman. Felix didn't bother denying it and admitted to having the affair. He always knew about Terri's men on the side, but never anything about them. She liked her on-the-side men, much older, which meant richer.
She always complained about him not making enough money. Her friends' husbands made enough money, so they did not have to work. Terri always wanted to be a kept woman.
Their situation was his fault.
Her constant nagging made his chest hurt. If she didn't complain about money she complained about how Felix never spent enough time with their kids.
Though he was glad to be free of her now, Felix wanted to be with his kids more often.
He stopped by Tony's apartment as a pot of coffee finished brewing. Tony's coffee tasted better than Rogelio's. Over a cup of the hot brew, Felix explained what had happened with Rogelio dumping the woman, but there was a witness. Without hesitation, Tony wanted to help Rogelio. "Yeah, I'm in to help him out. I don't want the money to stop either!"
Tony agreed that the job needed to be done as fast as possible, and to make it appear more like random gun violence than an actual hit.
"How about someone snatches her purse and she's shot?" Felix asked.
Tony agreed and added, "Yeah, that's good, but to throw suspicion, we need the hitter to take more than one purse."
Felix liked that idea.
After back and forth with names of who could do the job, Tony gave him a name: Happy Morales. A chill ran down Felix's spine at the thought of that man.
Happy ran Triple H, Houston Hispanic Hustlers, a street gang. Felix and Tony's job entailed knowing about Houston's gangs. Triple H had a membership of about fifty-to-seventy members, with a few members in LaPorte and Pasadena.
Happy, or Juan Morales, an unstable psychopath, loved the power that money bought him. Triple H earned by selling drugs, prostitution, and auto theft. Although it didn't make them much money compared to the other revenue streams, the gang performed hits, which helped their brand.
A businessman, cabaret owner, murdered gruesomely at his home. Someone cut his stomach open and set his intestines on the floor next to his body. HPD inspectors liked Triple H for the crime, but they could not prove anything.
Felix thought
that Triple H could do this hit, but he wondered about one thing. "You think they could do this as fast as we want?"
Tony nodded and said, "Yeah, Happy and his guys are so fucking crazy. They love money! They'd kill your grandma if you wanted them to."
"And afterwards?"
"What do you mean?"
"This is Rogelio's fuck up. I mean I understand getting so pissed you kill a bitch, but me and you have to help him out."
He shrugged. "Yes, it was his fuck up. We need to help him because if we don't and he get's arrested, how long you think he lasts before he flips on you and me?
Tony gave a him a look as if he understood. "You think he'd flip on us?"
"Yes! He would be facing a murder charge! I'd flip on you in a second if it meant I could get out in fifteen to twenty instead of doing life. Hell, a good lawyer might even get a dime!"
Tony nodded. "You're right, but you know we could kill him."
"Yeah, I thought about it, but we are making great money with Rogelio."
Tony shrugged.
They could find someone else, but it might take time and Felix didn't want to waste any time. "Look, we keep an eye on the investigation, make sure nothing out of left field comes at him. We protect him and we keep making money."
Smiling, Tony nodded. "Yeah, I do like the money."
"And Rogelio's already promised to make it right with me and you financially, so no worries there."
"You're right. Let's keep making that fucking money," he said, laughing, shaking his hand.
"Good!" Felix said, shaking his hand, bringing him in and hugging him. He was so glad Tony agreed. Then he handed Tony forty grand and kept twenty for any just-in-case scenarios.
Tony looked at the bag of money. "This should be enough to get the ball rolling."
Felix handed him the keys to Rogelio's car. "I need to use your car and you drive Rogelio's car. Give the car to Happy after the job is done as a bonus. Tell him that the car needs to be stripped and crushed or taken to Mexico to be sold because the car is dirty."
Tony walked to the window. "This is the car Rogelio used to transport the dead body before he dumped it?"
"Yes, so don't do any joy riding and be sure to wear a disguise, a hat with shades, and a scarf or something. And wipe wherever you touch."
Tony nodded. "You change out the plates?"
"Yeah, I took the ones off a car at a Walmart on the way here. You might want to change them again before talking to Happy."
Felix made it to the convenience store in under twenty minutes.
He wore an Astros ball cap, sunglasses, and a scarf. He strode faster until he reached the crowd.
At least forty to fifty looky-loos stood glaring at the crime scene. Felix counted, one, two, three, four news vans.
This was news today, whereas tomorrow, who knew? The American populace had the attention span of a teenager in physics class. Today, events like this lasted until the next tragedy hit the headlines.
Felix stayed back, thinking.
The police had her purse, her ID, and her phone. Her address and contacts like friends and family. The police would track her back to Aldo's, Rogelio's restaurant. The cops could be at Aldo's by lunchtime, dinner at the latest.
Although she did not die here, the police would treat the scene as if she did. Crime-scene techs taking pictures of the crowd (in case the killer came back) was standard procedure at murder scenes, hence Felix's ball cap, sunglasses, and scarf.
He moved over to a front yard and hid behind a tree, still thinking. If Rogelio went to prison, it meant Felix and Tony would go to prison too. Rogelio would rollover on them in two-seconds if the result meant shaved time off his sentence. Everyone did faced with the options.
Claire Cargill, a Houston Chronicle crime reporter, caught his eye. With her black hair cut into a bob, and her porcelain skin and black, thick-framed glasses she was geeky pretty.
Normally being seen talking with one of her kind, out in public, would be too dangerous, but despite the potential peril he needed information and she might have it.
He and she had a past. Every now and then, they would meet up and have drinks, which always led to sex at his place. However, the sex stopped when he and Amber started dating.
He walked up to her and said, "Hey, Claire. Cold enough for you?"
She whirled and her eyes widened. "Felix!" She leaned in and hugged him, clutching onto him a bit too long. He stepped away from her. "What's going on here?"
"A dump job."
"Oh!"
Claire turned back to the crime scene. "The victim is a young woman, I think she's Caucasian, or Hispanic. I saw her leg on the gurney as they put her in the ambulance. Not black." Not black meant that the body could have been just about any other race.
Felix stepped up closer to her.
She grinned up at him.
"So, Claire, what do they know?"
She pointed. "That woman witnessed a body dump earlier."
"Oh! Good to have a witness."
"There she is, right there," she said, still pointing.
That was her.
The witness was a typical soccer mom. Average height, a bit on the skinny side, dark brown hair, and really white skin. "Oh, yeah I see her." He watched Sarah talk to a couple of cops, he couldn't discern who they were, yet Felix was positive they were homicide inspectors.
He needed his Cannon so he could zoom in on her and the inspectors' faces.
Claire turned. "Name's Sarah Jennings."
He smiled, impressed. "How did you find out her name so fast?" Police did not release victims' names or names of witnesses.
"I watched her go into that house," she pointed to a house behind Sarah, "and I snuck up to the mailbox and found a cable bill addressed to a 'Sarah Jennings'. And she came out a few minutes later wearing a sweater, so I figured it was her house."
He continued smiling.
Claire held up a pen, gazing down at her notes. "I Googled her, but came up with nothing. She's on Facebook, but no posts in over a month."
Felix scanned the immediate area. With the number of people here, he felt comfortable standing here and not being noticed by any of the other cops.
Claire said, "I'll dig deeper when I go back to the office."
"So, why are you still here?"
"I wanted to grab some shots of Creed and Mason before I left."
He realized who they were. Creed and Mason. Damn it! They were inspectors, and good at their jobs.
Felix tried slowing his mind, racing ninety miles per hour, hoping Triple H could do the hit by lunchtime.
"You going to grab some shots of the crime scene? I'm sure I could talk my boss into springing for a couple, but you'd have to take some of Mason and Creed."
She had her phone out but its camera did not have the range Felix's Cannon did. Claire assumed Felix worked as a freelance photographer. Of course, he never dissuaded her from that assumption in case of situations like this one.
"Yeah, my camera's in the car, let me go grab it, won't take but a few seconds."
The camera was stolen, but Felix didn't give a shit. Jeanette seemed to like taking pictures with it. She even searched online and asked if they could go bird watching and take some pictures. Over time taking pictures of birds and nature had evolved into their thing.
After taking pictures of birds at Memorial Park, three years ago, on the way home he came across a crime scene, a triple homicide. A man killed his cheating wife and two lovers, who at the time were all in bed with her. Very tragic scene, but Felix stood there with all the looky-loos and reporters and started taking pictures. Felix shot about ten pictures before a woman, Claire, came up to him. "Hey, you selling those pictures? My editor might be able to use them."
That was a Tuesday afternoon. He sold two pictures for fifty bucks the next day. He had Claire in bed by that Friday night.
He returned and started shooting around the crowd first.
"I'm going back to the office to
write up my notes for the afternoon online edition. You going to send me what you shoot?"
"Yeah, I'll send some to you."
She stopped and peered into his eyes. "You want to hook up sometime soon? You could come over to my place, I'll cook, and you could keep me warm."
He sighed, needing to be good. "Yeah, sure, I am a little busy this week, but call me next week sometime."
Claire winked at him and left.
He loved watching her leave.
Despite taking some decent pictures, he physically needed to be in a higher position for a better angle. He climbed up onto a low branch of the tree that provided cover moments ago. Through the viewfinder eyepiece, Felix found Sarah and the inspectors. Zoomed in and started shooting her via shutter mode. Then got some of the inspectors too and uniforms.
Felix left after taking over a few dozen pictures. He got in his car, opened up his laptop, and connected the Cannon to a USB port. Once he had uploaded all the pictures, he found a respectable picture of the witness. He cropped it in a photo editing software and saved it in a draft email which was opened on his burner. Felix downloaded the picture. Then, along with the witness's name and address, he texted it to Tony's new burner that Felix had given him three days ago.
He called Tony.
"Yeah?"
"I just sent you the name, a picture, and the address of the witness."
"Cool."
"So you going to meet Happy now?"
"No. I called Marcos."
"Who's he?"
Tony took a sip of coffee. "One of Happy's body guards."
"You trust him?"
He shook his head. "As far as I can throw him. I saw him at a strip club a few weeks back. When Marcos told me that he rolled with Triple H, I asked him if he could sell me some blow. We went to the bathroom stall, and he pulled some out and we did a couple of lines each."
"That's cool."
"It turned out that it was his birthday. I got him a couple of lap dances, and one led to a happy ending that cost me 300 bucks."
Felix smiled. "The quickest path to a gang banger's heart is through his dick!"
Not Forgiven: A Thriller and Suspense Novel: Ungoverned Series Page 4