The Good, The Bad and The Murderous (Sid Chance Myseries Book 2)

by Chester D. Campbell

  Sid closed his phone and stared up the driveway, dreading what he had to do. He recalled the confrontation with Grimm at the Prime Medical store, the warning Wick Stanley had given him about Ramsey Kozlov, and the episode out by his mailbox with the two detectives Thursday night. He approached the gate and watched it swing open, then drove slowly toward the house, trying to think of an easy way to break the bad news.

  Jaz stood at the door when he walked across the brick-paved entrance from where he’d parked. “Come on in,” she said. “You won’t believe what Reagan Abrams told me.”

  What Bart had said seemed hardly believable, as well, but he decided to hold off for the moment. “She get a match on the prints?”

  “She got nothing.”

  Sid stared at her. “The prints should have been perfect.”

  Jaz repeated what Reagan had said about how all the files on the case had been sealed on orders from the DA, a message relayed by the deputy police chief.

  “Kozlov.” Sid groaned. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but it gets worse.”

  He told her how Bart had been pulled off the Earline Ivey case. “He suspects the order came from Chief Kozlov.”

  She stopped in the hallway to her office and looked up, eyes wide. “Evidence about me? What on earth could it be? Since I haven’t done anything, how could they possibly have any evidence?”

  “Bart had no idea. The detective they gave the case to wouldn’t tell him anything. But considering what we know about Grimm and Kozlov, and what they did with Mrs. Ransom’s gun, it doesn’t sound good.”

  Chapter 23

  Sid called Agent Eggers before they began their final shot at Elena Ortiz. He gave the address of Jaz’s mansion and said they would be waiting for him.

  “You might be interested in the results of the fingerprint check on the late Omar Valdez,” Eggers said. “His real name is Estefan Perez Delgado. He’s been involved in drugs before.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  “Hang on to Miz Ortiz. We’ll be right out.”

  When Siz closed his phone, Jaz suggested they use the rec room as a neutral, non-threatening place to interrogate Ortiz. Such things usually went better when conducted informally in a somewhat friendly atmosphere. She led the way to the kitchen, where Elena had finished eating and stood with Marie beside a preparation table.

  “Did Marie give you enough to eat?” Jaz asked.

  Elena smiled, a good sign. “I’m stuffed.”

  “Let’s go to the recreation room,” Jaz said, “where we can be comfortable and chat.”

  The walnut-paneled room had a cozy appearance with its soft recessed lighting. Photographs from Jaques LeMieux’s hunting trips graced the walls, including a large elk and a ferocious-looking tiger. A firm believer in wildlife conservation after his National Park career, Sid was happy there were only photographs and not stuffed animal heads. Jaz had kept one of her father’s casino card tables and the wet bar, adding her own exercise equipment to one corner. A sofa and two comfortable chairs faced a large screen TV. Jaz and Elena took the sofa, Sid one of the chairs.

  “Sid has learned some new information he wants to discuss with you,” Jaz said.

  Elena gave him a guarded look.

  “You say you met Omar Valdez at the clinic where you worked in San Antonio, correct?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  “Where did he say he was from?”

  “New Mexico.”

  “What did he say about his experience in the medical equipment field?”

  She shifted about on the sofa. “He had worked for a company that sold wheel chairs and walkers and all kinds of equipment.”

  “Where?”

  “In San Antonio.”

  “And Valdez was the name he used?”

  “Of course. That was his name.” Her eyes flashed toward Jaz and back to Sid as she began to twist her hands.

  She’s lying, Jaz thought.

  “According to the Social Security number he used, the name belongs to a man who works for a restaurant in Albuquerque, New Mexico,” Sid said. The FBI is on the case now. Using fingerprints from the autopsy, they’ve identified him as Estefan Perez Delgado.”

  Tears welled in her eyes and she bent forward, a hand covering her mouth.

  Sid continued in a calm, deliberate voice. “Your brother was connected to a drug gang, wasn’t he? Did he break away from them when he came to Nashville? Why were they after him?”

  She looked up, tears rolling down her cheek. “I can’t talk about it.”

  “You can either talk to us or the FBI, Elena.”

  She pushed herself forward on the sofa as if to get up, those indigo eyes flashing. “I thought you were going to protect me.”

  “The best way we can protect you is to put you in the custody of the FBI. They have all the resources.”

  She was standing now, the look changed from anger to fear. “They will torture me to get the information.”

  Sid stood, too, towering over her. “Sit down and be sensible, Elena. The FBI isn’t the cartel. They don’t torture people. FBI Agent Baron Eggers is on his way here now. Do you want to tell us about Estefan Perez Delgado?”

  “No,” she said, remaining tight-lipped. She stood again, looking defiant. “I don’t have to stay here. You can’t stop me.”

  “On the contrary,” Jaz said. “Have you heard of a citizen’s arrest? Under Tennessee law, a citizen can arrest and hold a person believed to be guilty of a felony. I’m sure Medicare fraud falls under that category. The law requires the person to be turned over to the nearest law enforcement officer.”

  John Wallace appeared at the door a moment later and announced that the FBI agents were here.

  “Bring them back, John,” Jaz said.

  Sid took Eggers aside to fill him in on what had occurred earlier.

  “It was Ortiz’s reaction to questions about her brother Pablo’s involvement in drug trafficking that gave us the clue.”

  “It appears likely that Delgado was connected with Pablo Ortiz,” Eggers said. “I’ve turned most of that over to DEA. There’s been a big jump lately in the flow of heroin into the Nashville area. First I need to make sure the murder doesn’t have any connection to the Medicare business. The drug people have learned that Medicare fraud is a lucrative racket.”

  “I asked her if Delgado broke away from a drug gang when they came to Nashville. Her only answer was ‘I can’t talk about it.’”

  “We’ll get the truth out of her.”

  “Have you turned up anything from the car rental link?” Sid asked.

  “We’re just getting into it. The surveillance camera showed him with black hair and a black beard, but the agent who rented him the car said he was clean shaven with light-colored hair. He obviously uses disguises. These guys are usually so cautious it’s impossible to pin them down, but this looks like we might have a halfway decent chance of nailing him.”

  They went into the rec room where Elena Ortiz sat with Jaz. The other agent stood in the doorway. Ortiz looked as nervous as a caged lion. Eggers took out his Bureau identification and showed it to her. “I’m Special Agent Baron Eggers of the FBI,” he said. “We need you to come down to the office and answer some questions.”

  “Am I under arrest?” she asked.

  “No.”

  Ortiz looked around at Jaz. “She said I was under citizen’s arrest.”

  “I said under Tennessee law we had the right to make a citizen’s arrest,” Jaz replied. “But I never said you were under arrest.”

  Eggers spoke to Ortiz again. “I need to talk to you about a matter that on the surface doesn’t appear to involve Prime Medical Equipment.”

  Which meant he intended to question her about Estefan Delgado and why someone had sent a hit man to end his life, Sid thought.

  Chapter 24

  After the two FBI agents had left with Elena Ortiz, Sid and Jaz returned to her office. Jaz slid into her chair behind the desk.

/>   “Now that we know she’s been lying to us, she doesn’t sound quite the innocent tool that she seemed at first,” Jaz said.

  Sid dropped into a chair across from her. “I considered her a full participant from the start. The way she took the money and ran the morning after the murder cinched it for me.”

  Jaz turned to her computer. “Let’s see what’s out there on Mr. Delgado.”

  Sid watched as she logged onto a background search site. “According to Eggers, Delgado was another El Paso product.”

  “I’ll put that in,” she said as her fingers danced over the keyboard.

  After making a few refinements to the search, she pointed to the screen. “This looks like him.”

  She turned the monitor so Sid could see it better. Estefan Perez Delgado had been arrested for drug dealing in San Antonio. A brief newspaper story explained how a key witness had failed to appear in court, resulting in dismissal of the charges. Following a link, Jaz turned up an item that showed Delgado appearing in a photo with a ranking member of a Mexican drug cartel.

  “It looks like he was definitely involved in drug distribution,” Sid said. “Eggers wants to find out if the drug folks were taking part in Delgado’s Medicare scam. The big question is why did they decide to cut their ties with him in a fatal manner.”

  “I can understand Elena being scared to death they’d come after her,” Jaz said. “If she’s smart, she’ll make a deal and tell everything she knows.”

  Sid sat back in his chair and nodded. “I think we have enough to throw Grimm and Kozlov’s case out the window. I need to put it all on paper and get it to the lawyers so we can get Djuan out of jail.”

  As he pushed up from the chair, an electronic beep notified Jaz of a visitor at the gate. Glancing at the monitor, he saw a stern-faced man at the window of a black sedan.

  Jaz keyed the microphone on her desk. “Can I help you?”

  “We’re here to see Miss Jasmine LeMieux,” he said.

  “Can I tell her who’s calling?”

  “Metro Police.”

  She pressed the button to open the gate and turned to Sid. “I wonder what they want?”

  Sid had a bad feeling about it, but he only shrugged. “They’re detectives. More questions, I guess.”

  She called John Wallace on the intercom and asked him to bring the officers back to her office. A few minutes later, John appeared at the door with two average looking guys who appeared to be in their thirties. They could have been a couple of young businessmen, but the one in front took out his identification and showed it to Jaz.

  “I’m Detective Thomas Fagan, Metro Police Department.” He nodded his head toward the other man, a sharp-eyed black officer in a snappy gray suit that appeared a cut above the one Fagan wore. “This is my partner, Detective George Quarles. Are you Miss Jasmine LeMieux?”

  “I am,” Jaz said. “What can I do for you?”

  “You can come downtown with us,” he said in an all-business voice. “You’re under arrest for the murder of Earline Ivey. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…”

  Sid listened in shock as Fagan continued with the Miranda Warning. Jaz stood with her mouth half open, her face contorted in a look of total disbelief. When he got to the part about “do you understand,” she shook her head vigorously.

  “I don’t understand any of this,” she said. “You could not possibly have any evidence connecting me to her murder.”

  “We have the evidence,” he said. “If you need anything before you leave, Detective Quarles will accompany you.”

  “Have you looked into the possibility this could be a professional hit?” Sid asked in a sharp voice.

  Fagan looked across at him. “You must be Mr. Chance. I was told you might be here.”

  “By whom?” Sid asked.

  Fagan ignored him, turning back to Jaz. “If you need anything, please get it now. We need to get downtown.”

  Sid wasn’t one to be ignored. “What’s the rush?” he asked. “Is Chief Kozlov pulling the strings?”

  “He’s just doing his job, Sid,” Jaz said, her voice calm though she looked anything but. “I was once a police officer. I’m familiar with how it goes. I’m sure we can get this straightened out shortly. Call K.C. Urban and have him meet us at the Criminal Justice Center. Here’s his card. He should be at the company office.”

  She picked up a business card off her desk and handed it to him.

  Sid could hardly believe what he was seeing. It was too reminiscent of what had happened to him in Lewisville. He couldn’t imagine what kind of evidence they had trumped up. If this was some sort of retaliation for the way he and Jaz had “tinkered” with Grimm and Kozlov’s homicide case, he would rattle cages until somebody paid a price for it.

  Jaz put on her jacket and started toward the door, but Fagan stopped her. He pulled out a pair of handcuffs and snapped them on one of her wrists.

  “Can you put them in front?” she asked.

  He cuffed her hands in front as Sid protested.

  “She’s a highly respected businesswoman. Is that necessary?”

  “It’s department policy. We do it to every murder suspect, regardless of who they are.”

  “If you’d called and asked, she would have come in voluntarily.”

  Fagan looked uncomfortable but made no reply.

  John and Marie were standing in the hallway when they came out of the office.

  “I shouldn’t be gone long,” Jaz told them. “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure we can clear up this misunderstanding quickly.”

  Sid knew she was putting up a brave front for their benefit, but he doubted her confidence was all that great. He followed them as they walked toward the door. Out on the porch, he hailed Jaz.

  “I’ll call Urban and follow you downtown. Keep a stiff upper.”

  As soon as he got into his car, he punched in the lawyer’s number. As he headed down the driveway behind the police car, he told Urban what had happened.

  “The way she talked this morning, I was afraid there might be more to it than she thought.”

  “Can you get over to the Criminal Justice Center and meet her?”

  “I’ll be there.”

  The detectives sped through the late afternoon traffic along Franklin Road as if they were on an emergency call, though they used no lights or siren. Sid stayed on their tail, letting them run interference. The gloomy skies looked ready to cry, and he shared the feeling. As they approached police headquarters, across James Robertson Parkway from the back of the Metro Courthouse, Sid saw the crowd of news people, including several TV cameras, waiting in the broad, tree-lined plaza outside the Criminal Justice Center.

  Anger rose in his stomach like a flaming torch. He could have chewed a railroad spike. Somebody had tipped off the media. This had Kozlov written all over it, a setup from the word go. Sid slowed as the black vehicle pulled to the curb. Detective Fagan got out of the car and opened the rear door for Jaz as the reporters and cameras closed in.

  Chapter 25

  Jaz saw the crowd in front of the building and dreaded what was coming. After the publicity brought on by Earline Ivey’s accusations, she had been skittish about talking to anyone in the media. They had carried her denial, but the Ivey story garnered much more coverage. Now they would be going for the jugular.

  Detective Quarles stopped the car near the walkway leading to the Criminal Justice Center entrance, and Tommy Fagan stepped out onto the sidewalk. She saw the crush of news-people coming as he held the door open for her. Camera lights glared and flashed in the gloom of the afternoon as she struggled out with her hands bound, looking and feeling like a common criminal.

  Fagan grasped her left arm and started to move her forward when another hand clutched her right arm. She glanced around to see the formidable presence of K.C. Urban. As the reporters began to shout questions, K.C. countered in a booming voice.

  “Miss LeMieu
x has no comment at the moment. We’ll give you a statement later.” He looked across at the detective. “I’m her attorney. Let’s get her in out of this free-for-all.”

  It all felt unreal as they hurried Jaz through the mob into the building. Fagan led them back to an interview room.

  “Make yourselves comfortable while I go find Detective Quarles. Be back in a few minutes.”

  The lawyer stopped him as he started out the door. “Don’t turn on the microphones. I need to speak to my client.”

  “Okay.” He walked out and closed the door, leaving Jaz and K.C. Urban in a small room with three chairs and a table.

  “I feel like a wanted criminal,” Jaz said with a sigh. “This is much more embarrassing than the dispute over the accusations of racism.”

  “Sit down and try to relax. Do you have any idea what prompted them to make such an accusation?”

  “Not the slightest,” Jaz said as she dropped into one of the chairs. It felt uncomfortable, which she knew was part of the game between cop and suspect. “They haven’t told me a thing.”

  “With your stature in the community, I’m sure the District Attorney would require some significant evidence before making this charge.”

  “I certainly don’t know where it would have come from. I was nowhere near Earline Ivey’s house, except driving along Gallatin Road. From what Bart said, she was already dead by then.”

  Urban shifted his weight to find a more comfortable position. The chair had not been designed for a man of his size. “What do we know about the time of death?”

  “According to the Medical Examiner, it occurred between seven and ten a.m.”

  “What time were you driving in the area?”

  “It was somewhere around nine-thirty.”

  She told him about Sid’s hit-man theory, that the suspicious character had visited the market on Gallatin Road sometime after seven that morning.

  “Did he tell the police about this?”

  “He talked to Bart Masterson, who had the case until they took it away from him this morning.”