I grabbed my“foot block” from the end of the row, plopped down in front of one of the computer stations, and logged in. I opened my case file for Danny Cabrera and looked over the information I had so far, which amounted to zilch. Looking through his work file, I didn’t see much to add. He had no disciplinary record, showed for work on time, worked overtime once in a blue moon, listed himself as single, and his aunt as his next of kin and emergency contact.
I leaned forward and put my elbows on the desk, resting my chin on the heels of my hands. I stared at the computer screen as if it’d would give me answers. I’d started to zone out, when I felt a tap on my back.
“Leigh,” Oliverez said.
I jumped up. I didn’t want her to think I was slacking.
She handed me Danny’s phone. “You’re in. Good luck.”
Sweet. This was better than having a date tonight. Okay, maybe not better, just a different kind of better. Work better, not personal better.
I leaned back in my office chair and put my feet up on the block under the desk, because I liked to have my feet off the ground when I typed. Weird, I know.
I had my feet up, and I swiped my way into Danny’s phone. Where to start…
Text messages. If I didn’t get anything there, I’d go to Facebook, then maybe emails. But did anyone under the age of thirty use Facebook anymore? I doubted it. Facebook was for old people. All of the kids had migrated to Twitter, which used to be for old people, back in the day.
And bingo!
Danny was a texting fool. Now all I had to do was sit back and enjoy the reading. I was so glad the days of text abbreviations were long gone...well, mostly.
He seemed to have a lot of recent texts from Gloria Zapata. His phone had really blown up over the last thirty hours or so. Gloria’s texts got more and more desperate, asking why Danny wasn’t responding, then they stopped. Then Connie intermingled with Alberto, asking pretty much the same questions. It was a weird mix of English, Spanish, and Spanglish. I understood all of it, but the Spanish took longer to read.
I had to scroll way down to get to the meat of the texts.
I had a feeling Gloria was Danny’s girlfriend, but I couldn’t tell from the texts of the last week or so. I had to go back almost two weeks to get to the heart of the situation.
It told a story I thought Wyatt should see. I put down Danny’s phone and called Wyatt from mine.
“I need you to come to the station. I want you to take a look at what’s on Danny’s phone. There may be a lot more than a murder to be investigating.” I scrolled through Danny’s phone as I spoke.
“What are you talking about?” Wyatt said, using his patronizing voice that made me want to slap his face.
“I’m reading the texts on Danny’s cell phone. The last few days are a normal jumble of stuff, and the last twenty-four hours or so are his friends wondering where he is, and why he’s not responding to them. But when I go back further, there’s some bad stuff. I want you to read it, and see if you interpret it the same way I did.”
That got his attention.
“How bad?” he asked, more concerned, less patronizing.
“I want you to read them without any input from me first. Then we can decide if we’re on the same page. But I think I may know what got Danny killed.”
I read further back into Danny’s text messages, and looked at his call log, as I waited for Wyatt to arrive. He was a popular boy. I kept calling him a boy, but he really was a young man. And from the looks of things, he was a stand up young man, too.
He, like most people his age, preferred to text, not talk. The few calls that came in, that did last more than ten to thirty seconds were from his aunt. There were a few numbers I had to look up, but they were restaurants: Mexican, pizza, Italian. Danny had more of a social life than he let on.
I wondered if he told his aunt he was studying, when he was really hanging out with people she wouldn’t approve of. And maybe Ricardo was his accomplice.
Wyatt walked in through the passenger loading door. He had a prisoner with him, who he promptly put into a holding cell. I waited while he took care of the details with the lieutenant, then came over to where I sat. I wanted to go to him, but I knew he had his own job to do, and I’d be reprimanded.
“Okay, let me see what you have.”
“I was looking at other stuff. Let me get you to the right place, so you don’t waste time with a bunch of fluff.” I scrolled to the place where I thought things took a turn.
(Translated to English)
ROSA
How did you get my number
DANNY
Isabel
ROSA
Tell Isabel to stay out of my business
DANNY
I can help you
ROSA
No one can help me
DANNY
You have to tell someone he will do it again
ROSA
NO! If you tell I’ll kill myself
DANNY
Why??? You didn’t do anything wrong
ROSA
You don’t know anything
DANNY
Then tell me
ROSA
Go away and tell Is to go away too
DANNY
I won’t go I’m going to help I’m going to turn him in
ROSA
And who is going to believe you????? He said he would call INS if I said anything to anyone
DANNY
Let me handle it INS will be not a problem
ROSA
I can’t go back to Guatemala I especially can’t go back with a baby
DANNY
A baby?
ROSA
Never mind
DANNY
OMG, you are pregnant with this assholes baby?
ROSA
I think maybe I missed my period
DANNY
We need to talk in person. I can help you
ROSA
No! Tell Is to leave alone. You too.
DANNY
Just tell me who did it
ROSA
I think you already know or you wouldn’t be asking
DANNY
I think I saw it
ROSA
:-(
DANNY
I’m sorry I didn’t get there in time to stop it
ROSA
Whatever did you enjoy watching?
DANNY
I swear I didn’t see him rape you I just saw you crying and leaving his car
ROSA
How
Wyatt put the phone down. “I think I’ve seen enough. Do you think Danny actually confronted this guy and threatened him?”
“Maybe. Probably.” I moved the phone around, and pushed the button on the side to make the screen go dark. “But we only have first names. Rosa is a common Hispanic name. If Thomas isn’t willing to open his employment records to us, we’re screwed. We’ll never find Rosa, and then maybe not the rapist.”
“We have the phone number. We can trace it to an account.” Wyatt sat up straight.
“Or not.” I threw a piece of paper at him. “I checked while you were reading. It’s a burner phone. She paid cash.”
“Damn it. No way.” He slammed his hand down on the counter and the entire room went silent.
Everyone looked at us. I’d bet they thought we were fighting over something personal. That just goes to show how little they knew about us.. I smiled, embarrassed at Wyatt’s outburst.
“Nothing to see here, move along.” I laughed it off. To Wyatt, I said, “There are other ways. I can talk to Thomas.”
“Thomas?”
“The owner of the almond farm. I’ll bet he’d be fine with letting me look at the files. I’ll ask him tonight.” I leaned across the counter and picked up the file Thomas had dropped off earlier. “He already stopped by with this.”
I tossed the file in his lap.
“Anything interesting in here?” Wyatt looked through without real
ly reading anything.
“If only. Danny was a good employee. A hard worker, like his aunt said.” I rocked back in my chair. “I’m going to go through his phone a little more, find some numbers and make some calls. There has to have been talk by now. His friends have to know he’s dead.”
“You’d think someone would’ve stopped by Maria’s house.” Wyatt stood. “Let me know if you pull any leads. I have a few things to check on my end. I still think it may be gang related.”
I hung my head over the back of my chair. “I really hope you’re wrong.”
Wyatt mussed my hair. “Me, too.”
I hated to have my hair touched when I had it in my perfect bun. Jerk. I smoothed the hairs back in place as best I could and went back to Danny’s phone. I felt something mess my hair again and turned to smack Wyatt, but no one was there. Damn it.
This had to stop. Maybe I’d make an appointment to go back to West Coast Post Trauma again when this case was closed. I thought Ochoa was gone, but he’d shown me in the last several days, he wasn’t.
Metty Legault’s press conference and subsequent news morphed into the weatherman reporting that we might possibly get some rain. Hallelujah! It could rain on my parade any day. The cost of owning horses had gotten so out of control, I was considering giving up the only thing that kept me sane.
I went through Danny’s phone and wrote down the phone numbers of the other people he’d been texting, calling and interacting with.
As I expected, no one answered my calls to their cell phones. But the rest of the numbers were regular cell phones with accounts with Sprint and Verizon. At least I’d have a way to track these folks down eventually.
I left the same message for all of them, because I figured by now they knew their friend had been murdered.
“Hi, this is Officer Harper Leigh with the Uncertain Police Department. I’m calling to talk to you about your friend, Danny Cabrera. I’m investigating the shooting that killed him. If you could please call me back, I’d like to ask you some questions.” I left my phone number, because I’d blocked my cell phone number when I called.
I didn’t answer calls from blocked numbers, so it didn’t surprise me when they didn’t answer mine. It did surprise me when my phone rang almost immediately after hanging up on the fifth phone call.
I looked at my list, and saw the caller was Gloria Zapata.
“Officer Leigh.” I tried my best to sound friendly, not professional.
“This is Gloria. You called?” She sounded like a twelve year old.
“How old are you, Gloria?”
“Why?” Now she sounded like a cornered church mouse.
“I’m just curious.” I’d looked up the name in my computer and found several Gloria Zapatas, but I didn’t have a handle on who she actually was.
“I’m twenty-two.” A confidence crept back in.
“Okay. I’m sure you heard about what happened to Danny.”
“Ricardo told me he died,” her voice cracked.
“Yes, he’s dead. He was shot and killed in his front yard yesterday morning.” I didn’t sugarcoat it. I wanted the facts to come out cold and hard, so she’d be more likely to give me some information, if she had any.
I heard sobbing on the other side of the line.
“Were you two close?” I’d suspected they were very close, but not sure.
“He was my boyfriend,” she sniffed snot as she blubbered into the phone.
“How long had you been dating?” I had a notepad out now.
“Not long. But we’d been friends since he started working at the vineyard,” she sniffed again, gaining control of her emotions.
“Why would anyone want to kill him?”
“Officer Leigh, I can’t talk to you on the phone.” Back to church mouse, but in a different way.
“I can meet you somewhere.” I was already standing, ready to head out.
“No, not today. I’m out of town with family. I can meet you tomorrow,” her words rushed now.
“When?”
“After work. I’ll have to call you. No one can know.” A pause. Then the line was dead.
“Well, shit.”
I went back through my notes, wondering if this was the right lead. Then I called Rosa’s number.
“Bueno.”
Her voice was older than I expected. More masculine, but still she sounded like a young lady.
“Rosa?”
Her voice wary, English perfect. This made me wonder why she’d been texting in Spanish. “Who is this?”
“Rosa, I’m Officer Harper Leigh, with the Uncertain Police—” The line went dead.
I called back and the phone went to voice mail. So I left a message.
“Rosa, I’m investigating the murder of Danny Cabrera. So far, the only lead I have involves you. I’d really appreciate it if you’d call me back. You may be the only person who can help me find the man who killed him. Please, I will do what I can to protect you. I don’t know if I can keep your identity anonymous, but I’ll do what I can. Please, you can help me put this person in prison. I need your help.” Again, I left my phone number, but expected no return call this time.
I wanted to throw my cell phone across the room. I was so close, and yet that brass ring was just out of my grasp. I’d go back to Maria’s house, if I thought shaking her down would do any good. But something told me Tia Maria didn’t know the half of what little Danny did in his spare time.
Gloria and Rosa were my closest leads. I needed to know what Gloria knew. From the text messages on Danny’s phone, it didn’t look like Gloria was too happy about Danny’s association with Rosa. I wasn’t sure if it was jealousy, which it read like, or concern. The stereotype of Mexican men being jealous tended to ring true. Was it the same with Mexican women?
I turned back to the computer and entered everything I had into the murder book. I wanted to document everything. Then I needed to talk to the pathologist to see if she had anything that could help me with the case.
CHAPTER 14
I didn’t look forward to seeing Danny’s body, blue and gray under the lights of the autopsy table, opened up for the forensic pathologist to investigate. During the drive to the hospital, Ochoa was giddy with excitement to check out the “dead Mexican.” I was not.
My excitement was in finding more information. I’d waited more than thirty hours for the doctor to come to Uncertain, for her to cut Danny open, and give us a report. I shuffled my feet as I made my way to the morgue office, looking at the floor the whole time.
When I looked up, a nurse’s assistant saw my uniform and pointed. I turned and saw the sign on the door. So many times I’d dreamed that it was me on that table, and the asshole who’d put me there was standing right next to me as I knocked on the door.
A raspy female voice said, “Come in.”
I opened the door, and walked in. Ochoa stopped at the doorway. I closed the door on him.
Doctor Dee Robards wore an indigo blue dress under her white lab coat, and brown, ankle high Doc Martens. Her short auburn bob bounced as she approached me. “Danny Cabrera?”
My throat went dry. I nodded.
I looked around, but didn’t see any bodies on the tables.
Dr. Robards looked around behind her, to see what I was looking for. “Oh, they’re all in drawers. We won’t be observing. I’m just going over his file with you.” She gave me a slight smile of reassurance.
I sucked in a deep breath, smelling the alcohol and other aromas of the room. The clenching in my stomach loosened a bit.
“Let’s go in my office. You’re Harper Leigh, right?”
I finally found my manners. “Yes, I am. Sorry. It’s so nice to meet you, Dr. Robards.”
She nodded and opened her office. Or should I say closet?
The space was barely large enough for a small desk and two chairs, and the door hit the side of the chair that wasn’t tucked behind the desk. Dr. Robards walked around to her desk and sat.
&n
bsp; I didn’t know if I should sit, so I stood in the doorway.
“Sit, Officer Leigh, sit. We might be a while.” She pointed to the chair.
I maneuvered my way into the room and sat. I was glad Ochoa stayed outside. There wasn’t room for three people.
“So, who had the sense of humor?” She looked up from the foot high stack of files on her desk.
“Excuse me?”
She looked to her right and flipped on her computer. “Harper Lee?”
“Oh, that. You’d think I would’ve changed my name when I got married, but then I divorced, and was glad I didn’t have the hassle of changing it back. No sense of humor. My parents had never read To Kill a Mockingbird when they named me. If only they had,” I laughed.
“Sorry. How many times have you explained that?”
“I can’t even begin to count, but it’s a fun story.” It wasn’t, really.
“So, Danny. Poor kid. At least he died quickly. I’m pretty sure the second bullet killed him nearly instantly. Pierced his heart. And giving him CPR just, well…”
Oh, God, we’d made it worse by trying to save him. “We didn’t know.” I was sick.
“He was going to die anyway. Nothing you could have done to save him.” She tapped a few keys on her computer and turned the screen to face me. “See, here and here. The first bullet through the abdomen, and lodged in his spine. If the second hadn’t pierced his heart, he’d have been a paraplegic at best. Those bullets exploded on impact. His heart was mush. Would you like to see the photo?”
I shook my head, not able to give a verbal answer for fear I’d vomit.
I looked at the drawings and notes she’d made as she’d done her autopsy, relieved she wasn’t showing me actual live photos.
“Another bullet grazed his right shoulder, so there’s a bullet somewhere on that property. But from what I have here, I know he was shot from a distance of about thirty feet or so, and the bullet came from a .38 caliber weapon. We had the forensics done already, and they were sent to your office. Your supervisor probably just got the information, because I just got the file back about an hour ago, according to this.”
“.38? That’s not really consistent with gang shootings,” I was thinking out loud.
Uncertain Calm (Uncertain Suspense Series Book 1) Page 11