Tallow Jones: Wizard Detective (The Tallow Novels Book 1)

by Trevor H. Cooley

  Aarin wiped her face and gave the black smears of makeup on the handkerchief a disgusted look, “It’s late. Can I go now? My mom’s gonna freak.”

  She was right. It was fully dark outside now. The mall parking lot was empty but for a few scattered cars.

  “Yeah. That can be all for tonight,” Douglas said. “But I’ll send an officer by your house to pick you up in the morning,”

  “But, no.” She began to panic. “What if they see me? She could be watching my house.”

  “Fine. I’ll send an unmarked car and a plainclothes detective with a gun,” he assured her. “You will be safe. I promise. I’ll give your mom a call and explain.”

  She nodded sullenly. At this point she knew there was no use resisting. They pulled up along side her car. Aarin opened the door to get out.

  “Wait!” Agatha said. She handed her newly finished cap out to Aarin. “Here. You were Asher’s friend. I want you to have it.”

  “Oh wow, uh . . . Aggie, right?” Aarin looked touched by the offer. She reached out with a hesitant hand and took the gift. She turned it over in her hands. “Thanks, kid. It really is cute.”

  “I’ve got another question before you leave,” Douglas said, one more thing nagging his mind. “You work at a cell phone kiosk. You have a cell of your own, right?”

  She frowned, her hand on the door. “Yeah.”

  “Why did you call him from a pay phone then?” Douglas wondered.

  Aarin grimaced. “I know this’ll make me sound crazier, but I swear they have some way to listen in on my calls. Like they hacked my phone or something. How else would they know where I’m going? When I told Asher, he was the one who told me to call him from the pay phone.”

  Douglas frowned. “I really don’t think you need to worry quite as much as you have been.”

  “He’s right,” said Tallow. “It takes a lot of effort to watch one individual that close. If they were that worried about you they probably wouldn’t have let you leave the building.”

  “Tallow,” said Douglas reprovingly.

  “Yeah. Thanks for that thought,” Aarin said, though as she pulled the knitted cap on and got out of the car, some of the fear seemed to have left her. They waited while she checked the backseat of her car. She got in and started the engine, then pulled away.

  Tallow reached over the seat to pat Agatha on her head. “That was nice of you, giving her that cap, Aggie. I think it fits her well.”

  “Yeah,” she replied. “Even though it’s gray it somehow makes her look less gloomy.”

  “So, Douglas,” Tallow said. “What do you think of her story?”

  “I’m not sure I believe everything, but whatever really happened at the travel agency, they did a good job scaring her,” he replied.

  “I think she was telling the truth,” Agatha said with a frown, though there was no fear in her voice. “Every word of it.”

  “So do I,” Tallow said. He gripped the handle of his cane with both hands and leaned over it, concern etched into his brow. “I’m glad I came down here.”

  “Do you have a place to stay tonight, Uncle Tallow?” Douglas asked. As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. What if Tallow asked to stay at their house? He wasn’t yet comfortable enough for that.

  “I am checked into a motel,” Tallow assured him. “I should be fine for awhile.”

  “I know what to make next!” Agatha pronounced, excitement shining in her eyes. “I shall knit you a cane cozy, Uncle Tallow!”

  “Oh,” Tallow said, a hint of unease in his eyes. If she made him something like that he was going to have to use it. “Great. Thank you, Agatha.”

  “What color do you want?” she asked. “I have a pink baby alpaca yarn or a light blue merino silk blend in my stash at home.”

  Tallow sent a pleading glance to her father, but Douglas stared straight forward, wisely staying out of it.

  Chapter 6: A Squeaky Chair

  “What a crazy morning,” Detective Ross said, shaking his head in disbelief. He flopped into his chair in the desk opposite Douglas’. The chair protested with an alarming squawk. Douglas was sure it was going to give way any day now. It sounded worse each time he plopped into it. Ross didn’t seem to notice. He scooted the chair forward, ignorant of each painful sounding creak.

  Douglas tore his eyes away from the monitor in front of him. “So what did Aarin have to say?”

  Ross scratched his head. “Nothing much different from what you told me when you came in this morning. Benny’s taking her home now.”

  “I was kind of hoping you would get something more out of her,” Douglas said, looking a bit disappointed. “You’re more intimidating than me.”

  “C’mon, Doug, she didn’t need intimidation. The poor girl was scared enough already,” Ross said.

  “So you believe her story?” Douglas wanted to see Ross’ reaction to her tale. He had come to trust his partner’s instincts over the years. That was the real reason he had asked Ross to be the one to interrogate her.

  “She’s telling the truth. As much as she knows anyway.” Ross looked Douglas straight in the eyes. “I know. She sounds crazy talking about creepy big-mouthed receptionists and muscle-bound midgets, but whatever happened there, the people at that travel agency scared her good.”

  “I feel the same way. And I saw that receptionist and her description was right on.” Douglas was relieved that Ross had come to the same conclusion. He didn’t feel so crazy himself now. “So now we have a second missing person case. Polly Roberts.” He handed a file across the desk to his partner. “I looked up the file this morning.”

  Ross opened the folder and sifted quickly through its contents with a frown. “This it?”

  “Yep. The officers in charge decided that this case was open and shut,” Doug said. Technically, it was still open because she wasn’t found, but the officers had decided early on that she was a runaway.

  “Lazy SOBs.” Ross grumbled. He glanced at the photos. “She was a pretty one too. From what Aarin said, this girl didn’t seem the runaway type.”

  “The investigating officers disagreed,” said Douglas and he could see how that would be their first reaction. “The dad was a mess when they showed up. Nothing had changed from when Aarin came by the house. He still thought she was at work. He was so drunk, he hadn’t noticed she had been gone for three days.”

  Ross frowned. “How does someone like that even get by? No way he keeps a job. Whatever the travel agency was paying the girl couldn’t have covered the bills.”

  “He wasn’t always that way,” Douglas explained. “He got hurt at work last year and has been drawing a disability check ever since. It isn’t a lot, but I guess he lost interest in staying sober.”

  “That ain’t a good excuse. Not when you got a kid,” Ross said.

  “There’s never a good excuse when you have a kid,” Doulas added in agreement, though he understood how tempting it could be to crawl into a bottle. He had been through some dark days after Ann’s death. He had never been a drinker, but if not for his kids he might have become one.

  “So,” said Ross, leaning back in his chair and putting his hands behind his head. His chair gave another awful screech. “Where do you want to start with this?”

  Douglas returned his attention to his monitor screen. “Aarin said that the travel agency people denied employing Polly. There has to be proof she worked there. Bank records, check stubs something.”

  “Yeah, I’ll see if I can get Brenda on that,” Ross said and he began sending a message on his phone. Brenda was their resident records wiz. “If there is information to be found, she’ll get it. I’ll want to talk to Polly’s father myself.”

  “Then we’ll go by there later today,” Douglas agreed. “After lunch”

  “And in the meantime?” Ross asked.

  “I want to see if I can get the chief to let us set up another stakeout on the travel agency,” Douglas said.

  “Yeah about that,” R
oss said, a hint of hesitation in his voice. He reached up and scratched behind his ear. “I, uh . . . talked to the Hutt about it already, just after I got done talking to the girl.” Ross hesitated again. “She put the kibosh on it, Doug. Wants more proof before allocating department resources to Asher’s case again.”

  Douglas sighed in frustration. “Why didn’t you just let me handle it? I could’ve . . .” One glance at the long-suffering stare on Ross’s face and Douglas stopped. He knew why his partner had gone in ahead of him. The chief had made an exception for him just the day before. Susan would not have looked kindly upon another visit from Douglas so soon. “Sorry, Bob. You were right to go in ahead of me.”

  “Yeah, well . . . it was a long shot anyway,” Ross said. “We’ll just have to get the proof we need another way.”

  Douglas pointed to his screen. “While you were talking to Aarin, I was pouring over the detective logs and camera footage from the stakeout at the travel agency. There is nothing, no sign of anyone possibly fitting Asher’s description coming or going near the building the night he went missing.”

  “Yeah, but we had just one solitary position,” Ross pointed out. “It was a good angle, but we could only see the front, the west side of the building, and the entrance to the employee side of the lot. Asher knew we were watching. He could have snuck around and climbed the fence by the loading docks. Or,” Ross added reluctantly, “he could have been nabbed on the street outside of view.”

  “True,” Douglas said with a wince. He had just been hoping for more. Any kind of evidence would have helped. “Something else is bothering me, Bob. There is no footage or mention in the logs of either the muscly dwarf Aarin talked about or the receptionist. No one enters or leaves the building matching those descriptions and we had our guys watching that place for three days straight.”

  “Maybe they didn’t come in those days,” Ross said.

  “I saw the receptionist there that day and no one saw her leave,” Douglas said. “The only way anyone could have come and gone without being seen is if they were in one of those unmarked vans that pulled in and out. There were no cars parked in the back.”

  “Any tall guys in a trench coat?” Ross suggested with a smirk. “Maybe the midget came out sitting on the receptionist’s shoulders.”

  Douglas shook his head. “Very funny. Any serious answers?”

  “So maybe they sleep there,” Ross said with a shrug. “The company leased the whole building. Maybe they have rooms,”

  “Come on. What company keeps overnight rooms in their building for their receptionist?” Douglas said.

  Ross threw up his hands. “I don’t know! I’m just throwing stuff out there. It’s part of my job description. ‘Play devil’s advocate for your partner.’ You do it to me too.” He leaned forward. “Why does this matter so much to you, anyway? When the receptionist came and went, I mean.”

  “It just seems strange,” Douglas said. “All of it. All these minor things. We don’t have one real concrete bit of evidence that something went down at the travel agency. There’s nothing to act on. But every time I turn around there is something else wrong with that place.”

  “Alright-alright. I know what you mean.” Bob’s chair squelched again as he leaned back.

  “Hell’s bells! When are you gonna put that thing out of its misery, Ross?” barked Sergeant Jimenez from the desk next to them. “Your butt’s making sounds like nails on a chalkboard.”

  “You got any pull with requisitions that I don’t got?” Ross barked back. He sighed, returning his attention to his partner. “Well maybe we can do some more surveillance on our own. The chief gave us the travel agency case, right? We can work it however we like.”

  “On top of our other cases? Where could we find the time?” Douglas slumped in his chair.

  “We make the time. We delegate some of the case load,” Ross suggested.

  “What I would really love is a warrant,” Douglas complained. “If only we could have had this information when Asher first went missing. When the case was still hot, I could have convinced at least one judge to do it. If we had been able to go inside and turn the place over, I just know we would’ve found something.”

  “Well, shoulda, woulda, coulda,” Ross said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “That kind of thinking ain’t gonna help. You taught me that yourself years ago. We focus on what we can do right now.”

  “You’re right.” Douglas massaged his temples with weary fingers. “Maybe I could get Uncle Tallow to watch the place . . .”

  Ross opened one of his desk drawers and pulled out a long black pen with a silver tip. He began twirling the pen between his fingers. Douglas watched the pen dance among Ross’ dark fingers like a living creature. It was one of Ross’ habits when he was bothered by something.

  “What?” Douglas said.

  “I still can’t believe it, the way your uncle showed up out of the blue last night,” Ross said.

  “Tell me about it,” Douglas replied, still watching the pen dance.

  “Well, last night when I went home, the case was dead,” Ross replied. “He shows up, and this morning, the case is blown wide open.”

  “I didn’t mean ‘literally’ tell me about it,” Douglas said. “I was there. What is your point?”

  Ross said nothing. The pen moved faster. Ross didn’t even watch his hand, just sat there with brow furrowed. Douglas could tell he was onto something. He waited until his partner finally opened his mouth again.

  “Tallow.” Ross said as if the name held some great significance. “That’s a strange name. Earlier you told me he changed it?”

  “His name used to be Errand. That’s what my dad called him,” Douglas said. “I was just a kid then. I was six the last time I saw him. Honestly I don’t remember much about him. He was a teenager back then. He mostly lounged around on the sofa talking with my parents when he was at the house. It seems like he was around a lot back then, but it’s all kind of blurry to me, to tell you the truth. Before he showed up yesterday I hadn’t thought about him in years.”

  “Why did he stay away from you so long?” Ross asked.

  “I lost track of that whole side of the family after my dad left us,” Douglas said.

  “The bastard,” Ross said.

  It was his common response whenever Douglas mentioned his delinquent father. Ross’ own parents were great, but his wife’s parents had been junkies. The pain she still felt concerning her childhood left Ross with no patience for negligent parents of any kind.

  Ross grunted. “Your uncle say why he changed his name?”

  Douglas shrugged. He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. There was a pencil jammed up there point-first in the soft drop-ceiling tile. It had been there ever since Douglas had been at the precinct. Some perp had thrown it up there years ago. Somehow no one ever bothered pulling it out.

  “Seriously, doesn’t the whole situation strike you as strange?” Ross said.

  “Well, yes. Yes it does, and yet-,” Douglas paused mid-sentence, his shoulders raised helplessly. Douglas had spent the last day giving that exact question a lot of thought. So far, he couldn’t come up with any reason not to trust his uncle. “I find myself believing everything he says. He’s sincere, he’s knowledgeable. He just . . . makes you want to trust him.”

  “Doesn’t that set up warning flags to you?” Ross asked in disbelief. “We’ve both seen it. Con men are great at making you trust them.”

  Douglas nodded. “Yeah, but so are good detectives.”

  “You yourself have admitted you know almost nothing about the guy,” Ross pointed out.

  “True, but . . . say he was a con man,” Doug posited. “What does he have to gain? I’m not rich.”

  “But you’re a cop,” Ross suggested. “We have access to all kinds of information.”

  Douglas was growing uncomfortable with Ross’ questioning. “He hasn’t asked for anything. Look, Bob, I trust your intuition. You are usually right. But it’s
not like that. All Tallow has wanted is for me to let him help me search for my son.”

  “Hmph.” Ross didn’t seem to want to let it go. The pen kept spinning.

  “I was up late last night going over the emails he sent back and forth with Asher,” Douglas assured him. “Everything he said checks out.”

  “I would like to see those emails myself,” Ross said.

  “Sure, I’ll email the file to you.” He pulled up the file on his computer and just as he hit send the phone at his desk rang. Douglas picked up the receiver. “Detective Jones . . . uh huh . . . Sure, Beth, send him through. . . . Uncle Tallow? . . . okay then. You are where?”

  Ross watched Douglas’ conversation with brow furrowed. The pen danced through his fingers faster and faster. Maybe it was the way his partner talked about this P.I. like he was an equal. Maybe it was just that Douglas seemed too trusting. All he knew was that something about this Tallow felt fishy to him.

  “They what? . . . Right . . . One o’clock. Right. Bye. Shhhh- . . . Crap!” Douglas slammed down the phone. He turned back to Ross. “Looks like Uncle Tallow has been doing our job for us.”

  The pen stopped moving. “Oh really?”

  Douglas gritted his teeth. “He’s been spending the morning checking out the travel agency. Evidently they cleared out of the place a few days ago. The building is back up for lease.”

  “What? They’re gone? How did we not know this?” Ross asked.

  “It’s not like it was announced. There aren’t even any signs up yet.” Douglas slammed his fist onto the desk. He stood up and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. “It’s not all bad news though. He says he found us a way in. Swears it’s not illegal. He wants us to meet him there.”

  “Good.” Ross’ chair creaked a sigh of relief as he stood. “Can’t wait to meet the guy.”

  Chapter 7: Mr. Niceman

  Tallow was leaning against the corner of the travel agency building, lazily twirling his cane when the detectives pulled up to the curb. He was wearing a long brown tweed jacket with leather elbow patches over a green open collared shirt. It was a sweat buckets type of day, but he wasn’t even damp.