Bad Vice: Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery #5 (Gotcha Detective Agency Mysteries)

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Bad Vice: Gotcha Detective Agency Mystery #5 (Gotcha Detective Agency Mysteries) Page 6

by Jamie Lee Scott


  I started to laugh aloud, then caught the look on her face and covered with a cough.

  Nick looked at me and I lost it. I didn’t care anymore. I laughed so hard my abdominals hurt. How classic was it that Mimi would have a date, like the guy, and then he gets busted for soliciting a prostitute?

  “Can someone let me in on the joke?” Nick was about as happy as Mimi at the moment.

  Mimi glared a warning at me, but I looked away. “That guy, the one Powers just escorted to the holding cell, he was Mimi’s date tonight.”

  Nick looked at Mimi.

  Mimi looked at me. “I hate you.”

  “I set Mimi up on a date. Well, it was through one of those online dating services. And it must have gone really well, because when Mimi had to leave the date early, this guy had such blue balls he had to find himself a hooker.” I had regained my composure long enough to relay the information, but when I saw Nick’s reaction, it was too much.

  I was doubled over when Cortnie approached.

  “What’s so funny?”

  I looked up to see that I was the only one laughing, though Nick did have a grin on his face.

  Mimi asked, “Do you have the names of the johns they arrested tonight?”

  Cortnie handed her iPad to Mimi.

  Mimi held her finger just above the iPad and ran it down the length. At the bottom, she stopped. Looking up, she said, “Charles!”

  “What?” Not sure why this was my problem. “I didn’t pick him, you did.”

  Cortnie looked over Mimi’s shoulder. “Bruno Travers?”

  Nick said, “Bruno Travers?”

  Mimi’s head turned so fast, I thought she’d break her neck. “Do you know Bruno?”

  Nick’s eyes widened. “No, just the name.”

  “You recognize his name?” I asked. Now this was getting good.

  Nick looked down and shook his head. “No, I don’t recognize the name. I thought the name was funny. That. Is. All.”

  It was clear he didn’t want any part of this conversation, and the gods were in his favor, because his police radio squawked. Instead of turning it up, he pulled it out and put the speaker to his ear.

  We stood silent. Not because we’re polite, but because we were trying our damnedest to listen in.

  Nick put the radio back, his right hand automatically going to his holster to check for his weapon. “I’ve gotta go.”

  I trailed after Nick. “Hey, I heard Kern Street. Can I come along?”

  Nick didn’t stop, or look back. “I don’t need any help. Thanks.”

  I kept up. He was lying. He needed help. He just didn’t know it. So, I thought I’d assist in his realization. “I need help. I need to get away from those women.”

  Now Nick stopped. “Are you kidding me? You are worse than those women.”

  I exited the building right behind him. “Whatever.” I wasn’t giving up.

  Without another word, Nick walked around to the driver’s side of his Crown Vic and got in.

  “Shit.” I was sorta pissed that he left me there. I was about to turn and go back inside when I heard the door lock click.

  I opened the door and got in without saying a word. I sat quietly.

  Ah shit, who am I kidding? I started talking as soon as my butt hit the seat, and the door was closed.

  “What do you think of Piper being preggo?”

  Nick spoke into the radio, giving the dispatcher his ETA.

  “I don’t really care, other than having to either work alone, or with a new partner.” Nick had his eyes on the road, maneuvering out of the parking lot.

  “Two lesbians having babies together. I feel for them.” I couldn’t imagine having one kid, much less two. “Those poor women. Don’t they know better?”

  Both hands on the wheel, Nick turned onto Alisal Street and headed toward the 101. “Know better? If I didn’t know you, I’d think you were a homophobe.”

  “I mean know better than to have kids.” Duh.

  “You don’t want kids?” Nick didn’t sound all that surprised.

  “Fuck no. I like my life. I like eight hours of sleep. I like taking a vacation without having to find a kennel, I mean a babysitter.”

  “When you have kids, you take them with you on vacation,” Nick corrected.

  “Then definitely, no. If I took a vacation, it would be to get away from the kids.” My skin crawled at the thought.

  Nick chuckled. “Kids aren’t for everyone. It’s a lot of responsibility.”

  “And yet they let anyone have them. Have to get a license to do just about anything: cut hair, drive a car…”

  “Build a house, get married…” Nick added.

  “But they let any dipshit have kids.”

  “It’s a crazy world, Charles. And speaking of crazy, what’s this with Mimi’s date?”

  And this was why I wanted to tag along.

  “She had a date with a farmer from South County. Dinner at The Pub.”

  “He looked like a handsome dude.” Nick slowed at a red light, flashed his lights and siren and drove on through.

  “Not bad.” How much should I share? “Mimi said he was nice and even understanding when she had to cut the date short.”

  A small grin crossed Nick’s face, but only for a split second before he caught himself. “She ditched him?”

  “Not really. We got a call from Cortnie. She was freaking out about one of her decoys leaving early, claiming sickness. The chick wasn’t answering her phone when Cortnie called to check on her, so she panicked.”

  “Called in the cavalry?” Nick asked as he turned left onto Kern Street.

  “She couldn’t leave the sting operation, so she wanted us to check on her.”

  “Not a bad idea.” Nick pulled into the parking lot of the motel across from our rendezvous point. “Good that she’s looking out for the welfare of her girls.”

  “Like any good pimp.” We both laughed at that one. “Anyway, it was unfounded. The girl skipped out so she could… oh, shit, we were supposed to introduce her mom to the vice cops.”

  “Huh?” Nick stopped the car at the check in area of the hotel.

  The motel was the type with the room doors on the exterior. Because the building was painted a light color, the bright blue doors stood out, even in the evening fog. To lend a tone of dread, the fog added a glowing halo around the porch lights. I could see movement at the front of the motel office.

  “Lena’s mom was waiting in reception at the police station.” I started to call Mimi, but just then a transient walked by with a bright yellow boa around his neck. “Oh, shit.”

  Both car doors flew open at the same time. Nick headed toward the woman standing outside the glass doors of the motel office, and I took off after the homeless dude.

  Homeless people can be a nervous bunch, so I took my life in my hands when I chased this guy down and grabbed his arm.

  As soon as I touched the stiff fabric of his tweed coat, I regretted it. If I had sanitizing gel in my pocket, I’d have used it right then and there.

  Instead of running, or even flinching, he turned to me and said, “Got a twenty? I’m hungry.”

  His tweed coat had dirt and food stains, but not nearly as bad as the (I think they were blue) jeans he wore. If he ever took them off, I’m pretty sure they’d stand up on their own. Under the coat, he wore a dark hoodie, zipped up to his beard. The brownish gray beard had grown down to his chest and was matted. I was happy it was dark, so I couldn’t see what might be crawling around in it.

  When I looked at his face, I could barely see his skin through the grime. He had a long, hooked nose, and his right eye was swollen shut. His hair was as matted as his beard and when he spoke, I smelled something akin to rotten seafood.

  “Tell you what, I have more than a twenty for you, if you tell me where you got that boa.” I stepped back before he could answer, and gave a quick blessing for the fresh night air.

  He played with the soft feathers. “Thirty?”
He put his leathery cracked hand out.

  “Not just yet.” I didn’t want to lose him, as his attention was already elsewhere. “Can you show me?”

  “Nope.” He shook his head violently. “Not that hungry.”

  “Fine. I’ll give you a fifty, I’ll buy you a new set of clothes, and give you a sleeping bag if you can help me out.” I’d have done it anyway, but at least this way I got some information.

  “How you going to do that?” He got a little too close to me.

  “Can you sit on this curb for a bit?” I pointed to the curb outside the motel.

  “They’ll run me off.” He started to walk away.

  I stepped in front of him and he stopped. “I need that boa, dude.”

  He shook his head.

  “It’s not yours. And I know where you got it. I just wanted you to tell me.” I reached for the boa.

  He grabbed my hand. I nearly barfed at the thought of where his hands had been, but was distracted by the strong grip. “You saw her? Did you do it?”

  Now I knew. “Her? What?”

  The man’s good eye went wide, which must have hurt his swollen eye, because he winced. “It was you, wasn’t it? It was you who was choking her?”

  Now I had to detain this guy, and I needed to get Nick’s attention. But when I turned around, Nick was gone. The car was locked up tight, and Nick had walked around the corner with the woman he’d been speaking with.

  “Not me,” I assured him. I reached in my pocket, and the man shoved me away. “Be cool. I’m just getting my phone out. I’m going to get you some clothes.”

  “You bribing me to keep my mouth shut? Give me a hundred and we be even.” Again he patted the feathers.

  I dialed Mimi’s phone. “What’s up?”

  “Where are you?”

  She sounded irritated. “Where you left me.”

  “I need for you to come to our Kern Street meeting point. Now.”

  The irritation left her voice. “I can’t. Wilma is waiting to talk to Cortnie.” Then she whispered, “What’s going on?”

  I looked at the vagrant. “I think we may have found Lena.”

  Her voice brightened. “Great.”

  Um, how did I put this delicately? “No. Not great.”

  Her voice got really low. “Please, no.”

  “I need you to listen, because I don’t have time to play games.” My stern tone had her attention. “I need a squad car to come to my location.” I gave her the address.

  “Is this the same location Nick was called to?”

  Argh! “Have Cortnie go to my house and pick up a couple of Anthony’s coats, sweatshirts, and underwear, socks, pants… whatever she can fit in a backpack. Then go in the garage and grab the red sleeping bag.”

  “Sleeping bag?”

  “Mimi!”

  “Sorry. Okay, I’m writing this down. What else?” She sounded as harried as I felt.

  By this time, Homeless Guy was listening in.

  “She needs to pack it up and bring it to the police station.”

  “No. No police.” He bolted.

  “I gotta go. Just have her get the stuff and get back. You need to get here, now!”

  I didn’t even hang up. I didn’t have time to swish the screen as I darted out into the street to catch up with Homeless Guy.

  The traffic had died down, and I was able to chase him down. I caught up to him in the middle of the street. He stopped, looked both ways, like we were standing at the curb, and started walking again. I gently grabbed his shoulders and turned him back toward the motel. He didn’t fight me, just kept walking as if he had chosen this path.

  I wasn’t sure how Mimi had gotten a patrol car to me so fast, or if they were backup, but three black and whites, with lights and sirens blaring, skidded up to the front of the motel. I had to hold tight to the transient to keep him from bolting again.

  Sounding confused, he said, “Nope. No cops. Nope.”

  A female officer got out of her car and went around to the trunk. She grabbed a roll of “crime scene” tape and started unraveling it. I knew if I didn’t get this guy in custody right now, I’d be stuck outside that tape.

  “Excuse me, Officer?”

  She looked annoyed, “Yes?”

  “I’m here with Detective Christianson, and he wanted this man detained for further questioning.” I shoved the guy forward.

  “Oh, really? And where is this detective?”

  Did I not look credible?

  “Call him on the radio. He’s in the back parking lot, looking at the body.” I pushed Homeless Guy right up to the patrol car door.

  The petite officer sniffed. “Ripe!” But she opened the door for me anyway. “I’ll have to get the car fumigated.”

  Homeless Guy grumbled. “I didn’t do nothin’, why you arresting me?”

  I helped him get seated, but didn’t touch the back of his head to keep him from bumping it. Once he was seated, he began to rock back and forth. “I ain’t done nothing.”

  I closed the door and turned to the officer. “That yellow boa he’s wearing, I’m sure it came off our victim.”

  She looked in the back seat. “Okay. You just want me to hold him here?”

  I smiled and took off to find Nick.

  When I reached him, he was standing at the back of the motel parking lot. I’m sure if I’d taken a selfie at that moment, the color would’ve been drained from my face. Cortnie had every right to be worried. Lena Dahl lay sprawled out on the pavement, next to the dumpster.

  “I hope you didn’t mess up any evidence.” Nick had his pad of paper out, taking crime scene notes.

  “Me, too.” What the hell else could I say? “Nick, the victim’s name is Lena Dahl.”

  “She’s your girl? The decoy?” His face expressionless.

  I imagined after seeing enough murder victims, there was a kind of defense mechanism that goes up. Otherwise, how could he stand here, looking at this woman and not feel ill?

  I’d seen my share of death, but I didn’t have the shield yet. Lena was still dressed in the outfit I’d seen her in at the station. If she’d had a date, she didn’t change her look for him, just changed from the jeans to a micro-miniskirt, but she still had the thick makeup and the turquoise thing going on. Maybe he liked the slutty look, or maybe he knew what she was doing and didn’t care. The heel of her left shoe had broken off, and there were abrasions along her right side. The blood had already formed scabs and the torn skin looked glued to the gravel with blood.

  “It looks like she was killed somewhere else and dragged here. Maybe the killer had planned to put her in the trash, but she was too heavy to lift?”

  I agreed with his statement for the most part. “Only she definitely was killed right here, or close by.”

  Nick turned to look at me. “What makes you say that?”

  “The transient walking by as we drove up, he was wearing the yellow boa Lena had on earlier tonight.” I took a deep breath. “He asked me if I was the one who strangled her.”

  Nick’s brows furrowed. The frown didn’t make him any less handsome. “You?”

  “I tried to offer him money for the boa, but he wouldn’t give it up. Then somehow he thought I knew what had happened back here, and accused me of killing Lena.”

  “Did you?” Nick asked, point blank.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  He didn’t respond.

  “The answer is no. Why would I want to kill an employee? That would kill our business.”

  Nick grinned. “Relax, I was kidding.”

  It sure as hell didn’t look like he was kidding.

  “Where is this guy now?” I’m pretty sure he was referring to the homeless guy, and not the killer.

  “One of your officers has him in her car.” I looked back to the entrance of the motel parking lot.

  The crime scene tape had been placed, and cops were doing their best to keep the public away. I was surprised no one had come out of their rooms
to get a glimpse. But then, this was the type of place where people avoid the cops.

  “Look at this.” Nick motioned me closer to the body.

  “Aren’t we going to destroy the evidence?” I stayed put.

  “I already took some pictures, and CSU will be here in a minute.” Nick squatted down next to the body.

  As if summoned, the CSU van pulled up, the cop removed the tape, and the van drove right up to us.

  I took a step forward to see what Nick was looking at. My phone vibrated in my pocket. It felt good, so I let it keep vibrating.

  “Look at her neck. What do you see?” He pointed with the eraser of his pencil and the beam of his flashlight.

  I couldn’t see much, and I didn’t want to get too close and have my hair fall onto the woman. “She was strangled, but I already knew that.”

  “Right.” Nick stood, still turning the light on Lena’s throat. “But look at the marks. What do you think it looks like?”

  I took the flashlight from Nick and looked closer. “I’m not sure, a chain of some kind?”

  Nick nodded. “Something makes me think it’s bicycle chain.” He pointed. “See how there is a sharp cut in the skin on the top and bottom, then a small space with only bruising, then the cuts again?”

  I looked closer. “Could be. It actually looks like she was dragged with the chain.” I pointed to the top of the ligature marks. “See how it seems to have dug into the skin in an upward motion?”

  “Could be, or the perp was much taller than her and pulled up when he strangled her.”

  I shook my head. “I’m sticking with the dragging theory. Look at the abrasions.”

  I pointed to her right side and her back. The fabric on that side had been torn, and the skin had been scraped where she’d been dragged across the very dirty pavement. I could see rocks imbedded in her skin when I shone Nick’s flashlight over her flesh.

  Nick took his light back. Moving back up to her neck, he said, “Makes sense. If he dragged her, he probably had her head lifted off the ground as he pulled. Look how the marks are cut into her neck and under her chin. Her head was used as leverage to drag the body, as if this guy didn’t want to touch the body.”

  “That fits.” I looked around. “Would have been a hell of a lot easier just to grab her under the arms and drag her, but then he’d risk getting hair and fiber on her. Was this guy a total wimp? Why just leave her here? Wasn’t he strong enough to pick her up and put her in the trash?”

 

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