Uncertain Calm (Uncertain Suspense Series Book 1)

by Jamie Lee Scott

  Her beautiful doe eyes went wide, then teared up. “Oh, no.” She wiped the bottom with the back of her index finger.

  “Yes, that’s why I need to speak to his boss.” And please hurry, I don’t have all day.

  She looked at the computer, then leaned closer, as if she really needed glasses to read the screen. “Felix Munoz. He’s in the yard today, so you won’t have to wait for him to get back from the field. I’ll page him for you.”

  She walked across the office to what looked like an old fashioned radio microphone and spoke into it. “Felix Munoz, please come to the office, you have a visitor. Felix Munoz.”

  She didn’t walk back to me, but to her desk. “He should be here in a minute.” She went back to her duties.

  Before Felix arrived, a tall man in his late thirties, not Hispanic, walked up to her desk. They whispered between them, then he walked around the counter and approached me.

  I watched as he walked. Maybe it was a swagger. This had to be the most casual office I’d ever been in. The man wore cargo shorts in a dark tan, and leather loafers. The skin on his legs was a color somewhere between the color of the loafers and his shorts. His shirt was a pastel banana yellow and had the TBA Almond Growers logo. When he aged a few more years, he was going to look like Robert Redford, dark blond hair and all. His blue eyes didn’t sparkle, they danced when he smiled in my direction. It wasn’t that fake smile I get from most people when they see the uniform and badge either.

  My vest started to feel hot and heavy. My entire uniform felt thick and too warm in the air-conditioned office.

  “Is there something I can help you with, Officer…” he looked at my badge. “Officer Leigh?”

  “Harper is fine. And you are?”

  “Seriously? Harper Leigh? Is that a joke? Kill any mockingbirds lately?”

  I wanted to roll my eyes, but I just gave him a crooked smile, because he was cute, and I needed information and didn’t want to piss him off.

  “I’m Thomas Barton, a principal owner of TBA Almond Growers. Misty says you were inquiring about Felix Munoz?”

  I frowned. “I wasn’t inquiring about anyone, sir. I’m here to inform you that your employee, Danny Cabrera, was murdered yesterday.”

  “Oh.” Only slight surprise in his words.

  “I’m here to inform his supervisor.”

  “Well, you’ve informed me. That’s even better. I’m sorry this landed in your lap. The money from labor isn’t enough, so these immigrants get involved in gangs, and they end up dead. It’s a sad plight, but I’ve seen it so many times.” He crossed his arms and shook his head.

  “That explains your lack of empathy.” I couldn’t help but let him know I noticed.

  “I’m sorry. I’ve been in this business for years. I see them come and go. I’ve seen many die from joining gangs, and thinking that drug dealing is the easy life. They don’t understand how hard my partners and I worked to get where we are today. We started in the fields, like them, with nothing. I worked in those almond groves to pay my way through college.”

  I gave him a wry grin. “And therein lies the rub. College.”

  “Oh, don’t give me that line. They have better opportunities than your average white male,” he stopped. “But that’s not why we’re here. I’m sorry.”

  “I’ve been looking into Danny’s lifestyle. He doesn’t appear to have been involved in any drug dealing, or gangs.” I looked him straight in the eyes. I wanted him to know I believed in this kid I’d never even known.

  “Then I’m truly sorry. I don’t know how we can help, but if you’d like to talk to Felix, I’ll get him here.” He looked back to his office staff. “I’d prefer you spoke to him outside.”

  He turned to Misty, and made sure she paged Felix to the office again.

  Thomas escorted me out of the trailer, and we stood at the bottom of the steps, in the gravel, until the silver Jeep Wrangler drove up next to us.

  Thomas stepped up to the Wrangler and spoke to the man after he rolled down his window. His Spanish was flawless. I understood him to say, “Señor Munoz, this policewoman is here to speak to you about one of your workers. A Daniel Cabrera.”

  Felix nodded, turned off the Jeep’s engine and stepped out of the vehicle. I guessed his age at fifty, maybe a few years older. He had the dark leathery skin of a man who had worked outside most of his life. The skin on his arms hung loose, and he wore a plaid cotton shirt that was so threadbare, I could almost see through the blues of the fabric. The sun reflected off the pearl snap buttons as he turned to me.

  “I’m Officer Leigh, and I’d like to ask you a few questions about Danny Cabrera.”

  “Okay,” he said in nearly accent free English.

  “Did Danny show for work today?”

  “No.”

  “Did he call in sick?”

  “No.”

  “Did he have a habit of not showing for work?”

  “No.”

  “So did it surprise you when he didn’t show and didn’t call?”

  “Not really.”

  I thought this was strange.

  “Why?”

  “Happens all the time. They get picked up by immigration. Busted by cops. Shit happens.” He shoved his dirty, dry, cracked hands deep in the pockets of the faded jeans that were held up by a wide leather belt.

  “Senor Munoz, respect, por favor,” Thomas admonished.

  “Excuse me, jefe.”

  It was a way of life I’d never understand. How on Earth did they even keep a business running?

  “So you just assumed he was gone?”

  “Sure. He’ll be back when he’s released. He has papers, but if he didn’t have them on him, he’d have to call someone to get released, if it was the INS. I don’t get too close to these workers. They come and go. No, how do you say? Longevity.”

  “But you know who Danny is?”

  “Sure, I know who he is.”

  “Was he a good worker? Ever cause trouble?”

  “He was okay. Señor Thomas could show you his employee records. I don’t think he has written warnings. He spend too much time flirting with señoritas. Ladies’ man. Had to talk with him about more work, less staring.”

  “He’s dead,” I said, point blank.

  No real reaction. “Oh.”

  “I guess he won’t be flirting anymore.”

  “I guess not.” His hands opened and closed in his pockets.

  “Anything about him that stood out? Anything you can think of that might help us find who killed him?”

  “Like I told you, I don’t get too close.” He looked at his boss, then back at me.

  I pulled my business card from my pocket. “Well, if you think of anything, or one of your employees knows of something, I’d appreciate it if you gave me a call.”

  “Sure.” He pulled his left hand from his pocket and took the card. He tucked it in the breast pocket of his shirt, then looked to Thomas for permission to leave.

  Thomas nodded.

  As Felix drove away, his Wrangler kicking up clouds of dirt, I asked Thomas, “Would you mind sharing Danny’s personnel file?”

  “How about if I have my assistant make copies, and I’ll bring them into the station later this afternoon? And you can give me one of your cards, so I can call you when I’m on my way in.”

  I pulled another card out and handed it to him. I started to ask if I could talk to some of the workers in the yard, but as I looked up, I saw Felix had loaded them up on a bus and they were driving away.

  “Where are they headed?”

  “Out to one of the groves. Not sure where, without checking the charts.” He watched as the bus left a trail of dust in its path.

  “Would you mind if I came back and talked to your workers later today, if I needed to?”

  Thomas grinned. “Not at all. But you’ll need to speak fluent Spanish or bring an interpreter.” He pointed at my uniform. “And you might want to ditch the badge. They’re weary of uniform
s.”

  I thought maybe sending one of our Hispanic officers back might be a better idea. And out of uniform might be a good idea, too. Maybe he could slide in as a worker.

  CHAPTER 11

  I was on my way back to the station when I got a call on my cell phone.

  “Harper? It’s Maria. She’s home.” All of this was said before I even said, “Hello.”

  “Who’s home?” I asked.

  “Tina,” she whispered, like Tina might hear her. “She must have come home for lunch or something. If you hurry, you can talk to her.”

  I looked at my watch. I was about twenty minutes from Uncertain. “How long has she been there?”

  “I just heard her jalopy pull into the driveway and called. Maybe five minutes?” Still whispering.

  “Maria, is someone there with you?”

  “No, why you ask?”

  “You’re whispering,” I said.

  In a normal tone, she said, “Was I?” and laughed. “I don’t know why. No one is here. But you should hurry. You can talk to her now, and not have to wait until tonight. Who knows? She might decide to stop at the bar after work, and come home late.”

  “Does she usually do that?”

  “How should I know?” Maria sounded insulted.

  I had a feeling Maria knew a lot about what went on in her neighborhood, but didn’t let on.

  I’d looked up the address next door to Maria’s and it was owned by Ralph Bennett, who rented it to Tina Yaunt. She was a receptionist for a small time ambulance chaser. The slimy lawyer’s name was Ben Ruby, and I knew him well. I hoped I wouldn’t have to deal with him as well.

  Tina had been married twice, by the age of thirty-five, and her latest ex-husband was Eric Yaunt. Eric, a parolee, was five years younger than Tina, and working as a truck driver. Of course, Tina didn’t need to know I knew this.

  I stepped a little harder on the gas, and made it to the East Side in just under fifteen minutes. When I pulled in behind Tina’s “jalopy,” I understood what Maria meant. It was an early 1980s Toyota Corolla with a faded red, totally washed out paint job, and a missing front quarter panel. As I got out of my car and tapped the trunk, I noticed the tires were bald. I’d run the plates when I was finished chatting with Tina.

  I walked up to the front door of the two-tone brown tract home, and stood to the side as I knocked. I waited and listened, hearing what sounded like high heels clicking on tile, then I heard nothing.

  “Who is it?” The voice sounded like a little girl.

  “Officer Harper Leigh. I’d like to talk to you.” I hated speaking through closed doors.

  “About what?” She sounded less like a little girl now.

  “Open the door and I’ll tell you,” I said, trying my best to remain friendly.

  “Tell me what it’s about, and I’ll open the door. How do I know you’re really a cop?”

  I unclipped my badge and put it in front of the peephole. “We can play this cat and mouse game, or I can run your name and license plates through the system, then we’ll see what else we have to talk about, Tina.”

  I heard the lock on the door handle turn, and a chain clink. She opened the door a crack. “What’s this about?”

  I could see Tina was a white girl with pinkish red hair, the kind that requires expensive upkeep, or it looks tacky. This girl couldn’t afford the upkeep. Her skin was porcelain with peach cheeks, and her lips were painted a glossy cherry red. I couldn’t see the color of her eyes because her makeup and false eyelashes obscured them. I couldn’t wait to see the full picture. No wonder Maria disapproved.

  “I wanted to chat with you about your neighbor, Danny Cabrera.”

  Tina smiled, showing twisted teeth on top, and one front tooth missing on the bottom. She’d been so cute before she smiled, like an overpainted doll. She opened the door fully, and I’d wished she’d kept it cracked.

  She wore a Lycra dress in a floral print, that may as well have been painted on her body. The dress was meant for someone size one to four, and Tina was maybe an eight. Now, eight isn’t big, but eight wasn’t meant for this dress, which at that moment was hightailing it right up her ass, and I could see the bottom of her ass cheeks. The floral print was lovely, and matched the purple of her four inch round-toed pumps. I tried to find something nice to say about the ensemble, and the purple was all I could come up with.

  She stepped onto the porch. “I’d invite you in, but my house is a mess. I’ve been so busy.”

  It was then that I saw the bruising around her eye. “What happened?”

  “I ran into a…aw hell, I ran into a fist. My ex-husband’s fist.” She looked down at the welcome mat.

  “Would you like to press charges?” I was getting off track, but this was important, too, or she could be the next corpse I investigated.

  “No, we worked it out,” she blushed.

  “Is he a jealous man?”

  “Green as that grass.” She looked at the postage stamp lawn of a front yard.

  Her baby talk voice grated on my nerves, but I kept at it.

  “Was your husband around yesterday during the protests?” I looked out to the streets.

  “I thought you wanted to talk about Danny?” she frowned, though it looked more like pouting.

  “I’ll get to that.”

  “I don’t know if he was or not. I’d already left for work. I heard on the news that a man was shot and killed during the protests, and that the police shut it down.” Her eyes went wide, then tears formed. “Was Eric…do you think Danny? I mean, I talked about it, but I never thought Danny would…”

  Boy, was she on the wrong track. “Is Eric your ex-husband?”

  She didn’t know I already knew the answer to that question, so at least she didn’t lie.

  Now the tears dripped from her eyes, and landed on her cheeks. “Yes.”

  I couldn’t believe this woman was crying for a man who abused her. “I know he was violent with you. I see it on your face. But did he ever hit anyone else? Or had he ever threatened anyone else?”

  “Why does that matter if he’s dead?” She sobbed.

  This and the baby talk were too much. “Eric isn’t dead, Tina, Danny is.”

  The tears and sobbing stopped so abruptly, I thought it was an act.

  “Really, Danny’s dead? That’s not possible. He was just at my house yesterday morning.” Then she realized what she’d said. “Before the protesters gathered.”

  “So, is there any way Eric could have been among the protesters yesterday? Did he know about you and Danny?”

  Tina laughed. “What’s to know? Danny was my handyman.”

  “As in he fixed things around your house, and that was it?”

  She grinned and winked. “He was at my service. But, oh, how Eric hated him. Eric was worthless with tools. Funny how he’s a tool, but can’t do a thing with tools.”

  “Did Eric ever threaten Danny?”

  She crossed her arms, and tapped her home manicured finger on her shiny lips. “As I recall, daily.”

  “Did you take him seriously?” She didn’t even seem to care that Danny was dead.

  “Why do you think I have this bruise? I never took Eric seriously.”

  “Tina, a man is dead. Do you think you could take this seriously?” I snapped.

  “If you’re asking if Eric could have been the person who killed Danny, I don’t know. He could have been here yesterday. Hell, I thought you were going to tell me he was the one who was dead. But then you did say you were here to talk about Danny, so I should have known better.” Her baby talk voice all but gone now.

  She could play a game. I figured she was good in the bars. Got what she wanted from the boys. “How long were you and Eric married?”

  “Not quite a year. We dated for a few months before we got married. He was such a charmer. But when we got married, he turned into a raging crazy man. If another man even looked at me, he’d punch him. Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore, and he st
arted punching me. That was the last straw, I filed for divorce a few months back. That’s when Danny started helping around the house. Well, it was before that, but I’d have to sneak him in the house when Eric was at work.”

  “And Eric never found out?” I found it hard to believe a jealous man wouldn’t check up on his slutty wife.

  “He did. Threatened Danny, but Danny said he had a pregnant fiancé, and they were in love.” Tina smiled like she was reliving an old memory.

  “Did he?”

  “Hell if I know. I never saw him with any girl. But it worked,” she frowned. “But Danny was the person who was shot? So his baby won’t have a daddy? That’s so sad.”

  “You just said you didn’t know if the story was even true,” I stared at her, wondering if the lights were even on.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Do you have a phone number and address, so I can have a chat with Eric? Or maybe his work address?” I handed her my card with a pen.

  “Oh, let me grab my phone.” She pulled her cell phone from her bra, and pushed a few buttons, then she wrote numbers and an address on the card. “He works at North Bay Shipping, so he’s probably asleep, or fishing.”

  I took the pen and paper back, not really wanting to touch the pen without sanitizing it first.

  “To be honest, Eric doesn’t own a gun. He’s afraid of them,” Tina said. Her voice back to the childlike tone.

  “Afraid?”

  “His temper and all. He’s afraid he’d kill someone.” She cocked her head, like a dog when it hears a strange noise. “You know, he did say he’d make sure I’d never be with another man.”

  “I thought you and Danny were platonic. He was just the handyman?”

  “And he was quite handy,” she winked.

  “Look, Tina, this isn’t a game. Do you think Eric saw you and Danny together or not? I’m not going to waste my time chasing a lead that goes nowhere, when there’s a murderer on the loose.” I had taken a step closer to her, broadening my stance, to let her know I was on a mission, even if her only mission was to find her next sugar daddy.

  “Danny and I weren’t sleeping together, but I may have made it look as if we were. Eric may have seen me hug him, or give him a peck on the cheek. It was nothing more. I do feel bad, because Danny was a good boy, but he wasn’t an innocent.” She squinted her eyes as she looked at me.